Never Say Never in Never Land
by Galimatias
Summary: Disney Captain Hook always wanted a mother. And when he finds the only girl in the lost boys near death one night, it becomes the perfect setup. Help her and get what he want. But during their time together will he realize she needs him more?
1. No One's Safe In Never Land

Night had fallen on the small island as quickly as the day had come. As the sun set, going from its high peak in the sky to merely balancing on the edge of the water, everyone seemed to do the same thing. The crocodile, soothed by the ticking sound that he forever heard coming from his gut, closed his eyes and floated quietly on the water. The mermaids, who just a moment ago, were splashing around enjoying the silky water on their fins, now lay on the rock in the middle of the lagoon. The Indians lay sleeping in their teepees, smoke rose from the middle of their village making a small line in the otherwise untouched air. The pirates gave each other night watching positions. Some went below to catch a few hours sleep while others stayed up with a bottle of rum in their hand and a spyglass in the other, preparing for the few hours they had ahead. Captain Hook lay down in his bed after a long days work. Smee, making his last round of the ship for the night looked over the edge of the ship, searching or any sign of green, although he knew he wouldn't see it. Not at night. But just to settle the captain's fears he did a quick look, listened for a minute and then went to report to the captain that he could sleep easily. His head throbbing and still repeating that blasted rooster crow he had to hear every day. The lost boys all crawled into their hideout; the old dead tree, and climbed into their beds. Peter yawned, smiling at himself for having such a successful day of tormenting the old codfish. And that night he fell asleep with the smug smile still plastered on his boyish face.

Tinkerbelle retreated to her place in Peter's room, a small hole covered with a leaf. Inside was a makeshift table, bed and other household objects, all of which were no bigger than doll house accessories. She curled up under a leaf on her mushroom bed, letting her light dim a bit so she could sleep without trouble. The entire island was asleep. Warm tropical breezes played through the trees creating a soft lullaby. Birds, just going to bed sang their last song of the evening as if to thank the island for some unknown reason. Splashes were heard far off in the distance as small fish jumping above the waters surface broke through the glassy top of the still lagoon to catch a few more insects for their dinner.

Crickets could be heard sounding around the hills, and the rest of the night bugs chorused quietly back as if they were having some strange argument, but about what, no one could tell. No light was shown from anywhere on the island. Candles flames had been muffled both on the ship and in the den. All of the light that shone down came from the moon, its light casting a glow which reflected off of all of the leaves, turning the green hills that made up the mountain silver. Skull rock, high and mighty even in the cover of darkness, loomed over the lagoon, its black eyes looking down upon the lagoon as a guard does his prisoner.

The black night sky covered all this like a blanket. Stars penetrating through the fabrics of space like small needlepoint's creating well know pictures in the sky. It was a perfect night as it almost always was on the island of Neverland. This was the one time where no one fought and the hills didn't echo with the sounds of steel blades coming together. The one time where ambushes were not expected. And the one time where, in a strange way, everybody got along. Night in Neverland was a time of peace and even the most dangerous enemies on the island knew and respected that, and never even attempted an attack. Everyone called this the Neverland rule, a sanctuary from all things that the day hours allowed. Another breeze gently sighed through the trees. It was quiet and peaceful, not one sound could be heard to interrupt this peaceful night.

Accept one.

One small girl, a girl in her early teens and the only girl allowed in the dead tree, couldn't sleep. The breezes from outside carried the hot humid air down to where she slept. She tried everything she could to keep herself comfortable. She took of the animal skin covers. She removed the heavy sleepwear that was only good for cold nights, but on nights like these was unbearable, and then changed into a light sleeping gown. It was just a simple dress, nothing fancy. White sheets sewn together to create a dress form and puffed out sleeves. It was comfortable enough, but not enough to soothe the burning heat that seeped in through the walls and pressed tightly to her skin. Giving up, the small girl climbed through one of the trunks until she reached a hood like door. Opening it she stepped into the hot night air. Almost immediately a breeze carrying the fiery atmosphere swirled around her. Her nightgown stuck to her back and she pulled at it immediately. Well at least she was out in the open here. It want as hot, but it still was unbearable. Finally deciding that no matter what she did would get her to sleep, she decided to use her time as usefully as she could. She pushed her hair away from her sweaty brow and began to tromp through the forest. It was too dark too see which direction she was going but she figured that when daylight came she would figure out her way back. She knew this island well, having lived here many years of her life. Once she could clearly see her way, she figured it would be easy to find her way back. She would simply look for those small markers that would tell her where she was. It was like the two skunk twins. Whenever they tried to trick her into thinking one of them was the other, she simply looked for the markers, a small freckle on one of their foreheads and a gap in the other one's tooth. But in the dark, she probably could never have been able to tell.

As she ventured farther along she thought about all the things that could go wrong, then quickly realizing her mistakes she balanced them with a solution. If she ran into an Indian? Simple, a tree or bush could make a nice cover. If she ran into a mermaid? Well that was easy, find something pretty for them to fight over, a shell of glowing pebble. Well, what about pirates? She scoffed at herself for even thinking about that. Although pirates probably had the stronger side of the fight with weapons, none of the crew was very bright. They had the muscles and the tattoos and of course the everlasting list of threats, but once you got past that all there was left was a mindless parrot, sitting on it's masters shoulder and repeating or doing everything he says. No, she didn't have to worry about those parrots. She let out a small giggle as she thought of it that way. Then she stopped, her face screwed up into one of deep thought. No, it wasn't the parrot's she had to worry about, but it was the master. Captain James Hook was that person who had all of the pirates under his control. She had heard rumors that all of his crew hated him. But what scared her was that they didn't dare attack him. He was a dangerous man and could kill all of the crew if he wished. Sure, Peter could beat him. But Peter had the gift of flight on his side. If Hook had him on the ground and his hook readied she knew that there would be trouble. She had seen it happen once. She shivered remembering the incident.

Peter had decided one day to go out on his own and try to taunt the "old codfish." Actually, that old codfish was hardly very old at all. He was maybe in his late thirties or mid forties. But to us, any adult on the island was considered an old codfish. It had never made much sense too her. Peter hated grown ups, but had never stated his reason why. She had, too, had her share of hate from her elders and yet did not hate all grown people. She just never got attached to them after that. But Peter detested them, and made it his job to make every day of the only grown man on the island as miserable as it could be. She felt no pity for him though; he felt the same way towards children and had set it in his mind to do the same. But that day, Hook had succeeded in getting him on the ground and had cut him rather badly on the shoulder with his hook. She remembered treating the wound, disturbed by how violent Hook could be. She had never seen him really hurt anyone before. She shivered even though the it wasn't the least bit cold.

As the night stretched on, the darkness seemed to get deeper. This wasn't a surprise though. Under the canopy of leaves, no light was let in creating a hind of cave under the tall trunks surrounding her. Farther along, the tall trees opened revealing a spacious field. She walked through the arch of branches, venturing through the long walk of grass and weeds. She could see water, but it was not from the end of the island, but more from a closed off lake of some kind. She guessed that she must have been in the middle. Coming closer to the water she kneeled down by the surface. She let her toes sink into the cool mud, grateful that at least one part of her wasn't being cooked alive. She cupped some of the liquid in her hand. Holding it up to her face she smelled it. No salty aroma hit her nose. This was a watery location all of it's own, not connected to the sea by any means. She let the water from her hands pass through her fingers and drip slowly back into the lake. She watched the ripples branch out for a while, amused by the way they lasted for so long and then slowly faded away, leaving the water smooth and clear and silver, reflecting the light from the full moon above.

Looking back at the lake she stretched out her arms, letting the cool water run over her hot skin. Soon her feet joined her, then her legs. She didn't want to go for a swim at this hour. From her view she could tell that the lake itself was transparent during the day. She closed her eyes, imagining how it must look. She could faintly picture the sun shining high overhead, it's metallic ray's shooting down and slicing through the still surface and after reaching the bottom, gives up trying to break through the hard floor and instead just covers all of it, burning the bottom and making it glow. But for now the lake was blackened by night's darkness, leaving the mind to wonder about how deep it goes when sunlight isn't there to chaperone it. No, swimming now was not an option, not until she had learned this lake and had etched the very picture of it into her mind just as she had the rest of this island.

Finally, after the cool water had soothed her skin, she stood up and once again walked slowly through the wet dirt. She reached the grassy part and let her feet trail through, wiping them clean of any dirt that may have lingered there. Once she felt suitable enough she began to quicken her pace. Not to any amount that would seem urgent, but one that would seem like she had a place to be. Which at the moment she didn't. It was just nice to pretend it, as this feeling put a certain importance on the girls slender shoulders, weighing them down and arching her back, creating the stance of not a restless teenage girl, but of someone who had the feeling that she knew exactly what she was doing.

Walking towards the arch of leaves once again, she prepared to take her leave, knowing if she didn't start her trek back home now she was sure to be caught by one of the early risers. The Neverland Rule might protect her by night, but as soon as the early hours struck, she became fair game. She looked at the moon while she walked, trying to calculate the time. It was around 2:00 AM. That, in Neverland was still considered night. The early hours started at 4:00 AM and went to about 10:00 PM. Good. She let a small smile grace her lips. It had taken her a short time to get here. She could get back before the hours of night were over. Although the heat still pressed on, her legs and arms were still moist, not having been dried yet by the wind, and the breeze just cooled her off further, a surprising change when earlier it had baked her skin. But the thought of how quick the unwelcoming heat would come again was torture. She shook her head, banishing the thought and telling herself to embrace the only moments of comfortable temperature she would receive for the rest of the night. The thought was brought back by her remembering her bed, her destination at the moment. Actually, her bed didn't sound like such a bad place. She then realized how tired she actually was. She forced her legs to move faster, eager to slump down under the sheets to enjoy the rest of her night in peaceful slumber.

_Crack_

She swiveled, her hips twisted quickly as her body soon followed. She had heard a sound; that was for sure. She got ready to turn, to tell herself it had been her imagination, but she stopped herself at once from even thinking that. What she had heard was not in her imagination, and if she trained her mind to believe that then it would almost certainly lead to her demise. Taking a deep breath, she slowly took in as much air as she could and held it tightly locked in her chest. She stood there; not moving not breathing not letting herself make any noise, not until the noise she had heard had been confirmed. She stood for a good five minutes, and after not hearing anything further she turned slowly and began tiptoeing quietly towards the forest. The darkness underneath the roof of trees now seemed less comforting then before. Her imagination formed a horrible picture in her mind, a thought of a masked man in the shadows, ready to strike her at any moment. She pushed away the image, but she knew it was too late, once it was there it would stay there and be brought back at any moment when the realization of darkness had swallowed her whole. Taking a deep breath she walked towards the gaping hole, knowing that her only escape was home, and the only way home was this. But as she took her final steps, her eyes just beginning to see the sketchy outlines of the trees within the darkness that lay before her, two strong arms grabbed her from behind pulling her with a force that seemed to break everything inside her. Fear took over everything in her mind, placing logic under its heavy fog. And left helpless, she did all she could do. She screamed.


	2. That Was No Bird

**Just to clarify something that anyone might have asked, this is Disney's Captain Hook.**

o 0 o

Captain Hook hadn't been able to sleep that night. The salty air, usually cool and humid, was being taken over by the breezes that came in from the island before him. Nights this hot were rare. They anchored fairly far from the island and never received any of the climates that the land usually kept to itself. After hours of tossing and turning around, fighting the battle of hot and cold, he gave up and rose. He removed his nightshirt quickly, replacing it with his standard attire. A pink shirt, black pants, ruffles down the front of his chest, a red and gold coat, and of course, his hat. Walking out he grabbed his ruffled handkerchiefs, pushing them through his sleeve to allow the ruffles to hang out. He swung open the door and walked out into the hot air, instantly wishing he hadn't worn the coat. Dismissing all the other pirates to their sleeping quarters, the captain took his place at the bow of the ship. He figured if he wasn't going to get any sleep, he might as well be the one to watch for any disturbances.

Digging through his pocket he found his pipe. A two spoke contraption, no different from a candlestick holder, meant to hold two of his cigars at once. He rarely smoked; in fact he had tried to quit. But during the times when his mind wandered he felt the need to have something to keep his mind busy. The flick of a match illuminated the dark for an instant, a single spark in the dark shade of night, which from the island looked like a sparkle of red that slowly went down to a soft red glow.

The Captain stood there puffing his pipe, his eyes twisting as he contemplated everything that he had done and needed to do. Well, there was that boy… his eyes turned from contemplation to anger. That boy; the one who took his dignity, his pride and of course… he looked at his left hand, then at his right hand. Well, not hand. Hook. All because of that blasted boy. His hook dug into the wood of the ship. Well, he had to thank the boy for one thing, turning him even more dangerous then he had before. "Oh, that scurvy brat is going to pay. All of those scurvy brats are going to pay." He mumbled to himself as he pulled his hook out of the wood, twisting it tighter onto its screw, the one that replaced some of his wrist. He never removed the screw, but he had various hooks that he always used for different occasions. This just happened to be his favorite one. The weight was one he had become accustomed to, so now he hardly noticed it.

The captain took out his pocket watch. A long time ago, he had figured out a way to muffle the ticking, keeping him from being tricked by the sound that haunted him. He flipped it open, the glow from his cigars illuminating the face. He stared at it for a minute, his eyes adjusting enough to be able to read the hands. 2:03 AM. Good, he only had a few more hours until the day came.

He snapped his watch shut, placing it into the pocket in the inside of his coat. He took a deep inhale of his pipe, letting out a large ring of smoke. He watched the puff go up into the sky. With a sigh he put out the cigars and threw them down into the ocean below and then placed his pipe in a small box. Walking up some stairs to a higher space on the ship he put the box on his outside desk. He walked back to his spot, taking off his coat and hat and folding it, he placed it hanging over the edge with the hat on top. Leaning over the railing once again, placing his elbow on the edge and supporting his chin in his hand. He relaxed for a minute closing his eyes and breathing slowly. Finally, he was getting some rest.

Then something broke his concentration. A sound ripped through the night air. It was shrill and loud and caused him to snap his eyes open. He looked around confused. Had it been a bird? They were known to have loud calls. But at this hour? He stood still for a minute, keeping his ears open, listening for any other sound to appear. After another minute of waiting, he shrugged. _Must have been a bird, _he thought to himself. But before he could go back to relaxing another shrill sound pierced the sky. He turned around as fast as a whip. That wasn't a bird. He knew that sound well, he had heard it many a time during his career. It was a scream. But not the normal kind of scream. Well… the first one had been normal. Too him at least. It had been a scream of complete and total terror. That scream he knew very well, he was usually the cause of it. But the second scream, that had not been one of terror. It was not at all one he heard very often. Being a pirate, and a pirate captain nonetheless, he had to have heard it once and a while. He had heard all of the screams. And that scream, that one solitary scream, was different from them all. Because, while all of the other screams were caused by fear, terror, loss, and so many other reasons, this one scream was from something completely different, and because of this, he could identify it easily. For this scream, the second one heard echoing over the once still hills of the island, was one of suffering, agony, and bloodcurdling pain.

The Captain couldn't figure out why but his feet moved before his brain did. Quietly running across the deck and throwing his coat on in the process, not even bothering with the large hat, he jumped over the short distance from the deck to the lifeboat over the side. Lowering himself down onto the water he grabbed the oars and rowed through the foggy waters towards the place where the scream had come. He may not have been able to see who the scream came from but he could pinpoint the location, or at least near to it. What confused him more was not even the scream itself. But it was the fact that he cared. He should never care about something as simple as this. He was a pirate. Hurting people, killing them… that was what he did. But nonetheless, here he was. Rowing to the island to investigate a sound that only he had heard.


	3. No More

The girl had been grabbed from behind and hoisted off her feet. And as soon as her feet left the solid ground, her face met it. The hard ground pushed up against her hose and mouth. She could taste a mixture of dirt and blood as her lip was cut by the impact. She had been terrified before, and she still was. But now another feeling was also joining that terror. Confusion. Who was this person and what was this person doing to her. She turned her body around so she could lie on her back to look up at her attacker. As she turned stabbing pains hit her sides and she grimaces, something was definitely broken. But she had no time to think about that right now. She stared up into the face of her adversary. Though it was to dark to clearly see what the person looked like, she could tell by the outlined features of his face and arms that he was a man. A shaved head, bandanna, and some whiskers sticking out of his square chin. His arms were enormous; muscles seemed to grow on top of one another. Well no wonder something was broken. With arms like that, the amount of force could really injure someone. She looked at him closely. By the cut of his shirt and the bandanna around his bald head she guessed he was a pirate. But she had never seen him before. Well… that was probably not true. She never took the time too look at the pirates she stole from and attack. She just looked for features and knew to avoid them when she was alone or at least weaponless. Like she was now.

So absorbed was she in the categorization of the pirate that she didn't see the man raise a knife ready to drive it through the delicate skin the covered her throat. She let out a strangled scream, this time too quiet for her to hear herself and rolled out of the way, the knife just missing her by an inch. She crawled away, still too shocked to stand. She needed to get away, that was for sure. But before she could even rise to make her leave she felt something put pressure on the front of her leg, about halfway down her thigh, and pull down diagonally to the side of her ankle. A scream that she didn't expect ripped through her throat once more. She looked down at her leg, all of a sudden realizing the extreme pain she was in. He had dug the knife, the one that was directed towards her throat not more than a minute ago, into her leg quiet deeply. And once the blade had called her flesh a home he had dragged down in one swift movement. She fell to the ground and no more screams came. It made no sense either way. She knew no one could hear her. But gasps and chokes came from her throat. She tried once again to crawl away but couldn't get up, her leg deciding to be heavy as led and slow her down. She finally got one leg up into a kneeling position and forced her damaged body up. Slowly but surely she was running. Where, she didn't know. But anywhere was better than here. Her running proved to be a waste of effort though as the attacker was much faster and uninjured. He grabbed her by the arm bruising her skin in the process. _Why me?_ She thought desperately. _What does he want with me?_ She felt another pressure and tug once again, but this time on her stomach. The pressure of the knife came from her side, which tugged to her other side, right above her hip. Another one of her screams hit her ears. But this time she didn't get up. She looked to her side. Wait… was day coming already? She hadn't realized that the sun had risen turning the grass, once silver from the moon, to a deep maroon red. But looking up at the night sky, still unchanged, she realized that the grass was red for a whole different reason.

Blood was pulsing out of her body at a surprising rate. She looked up once again at the pirate who had attacked her. He was advancing her again, knife raised above his head. She could see the full moon reflecting off of the blade and it winked at her almost teasingly, telling her she was going to die and that nothing she could do would stop it. The pirate had reached her and in once fast motion lowered his arm down, aiming the knife at her bloody shirt. The dagger whistled through the air as his hand fell at a surprising speed. She let out a small shriek and shut her eyes. Then there was nothing. She let herself open one eye though it was getting harder and harder too see through the pain. Her attacker, the pirate had stopped min-stab and was looking around confused. She could see his eyes through the darkness and saw them widen in surprise and fear. He looked at the knife, then her, and then ran, leaving her to die there of blood loss and pain. Or whichever one came first. She allowed herself to raise her body up so she could se what had startled him enough to leave. She whimpered loudly as she sat slightly up, her body folding a bit and allowing the giant gash on her stomach to worsen. But she told herself to stay there.

As she looked around she saw a figure coming towards her in the darkness and shivered. It was him again, he was back. And this time he would finish her off. She tried to get up and run but screamed in pain as her leg and stomach protested. The scars were deep and large, and her ribs crackled when she moved. But that seemed to make the person approach her move even faster, probably sensing her struggle to escape. She fell to the ground in pain, her vision static and unclear. The figure finally approached her. Moving very slowly and coming to stand next to her so that he towered over her and in the darkness this just added another factor to the reasons she was so scared. He brandished out his knife. Wait, not knife… hook, and held lowered it towards her to hold it in front of her face. She held her hands above her face, pushing against his arm. She had no more energy in her and the push against the man's forearm was no more then a slight nudge. She used whatever energy she had left to speak out to him.

"No more." She whispered, begging him to stop. She had been through enough. She was down and dying and now he had come once again to inflict more wounds. "No more." She begged again. "Please… please, no more… no… more."

And then she blacked out.


	4. Bad Form

Captain Hook had reached the island and looked around. It looked so different close up, and he knew that just finding the location of the scream was going to be a challenge all of it's own. He walked around the beach imagining the island from afar. If he really thought about it he could remember where his destination had been while he was on the ship. He thought harder and then concluded that he did know where it was. He walked farther down the beach and then took a right and walked through the forest. The trees closed in around him, making his walk much more difficult and lengthy, but he pressed on. All the while he thought to himself, why was he doing what he was doing? He had never cared much about someone else's pain before. He himself had killed many people and always thought about killing people every day. His room was littered with papers, all of them with devious plans and traps written on them. And all of them were ways to end someone's life. But even though he had killed people he had never killed them in a way that made them make that sound. Usually he just got them to walk the plank, and their scream was one of fear, not pain. Just last year he had killed one of his pirates, one who had been bothering him with an accordion song, by shooting him. But no scream had come from him, as his death had been quick and merciful.

He had heard the scream from himself when he was thrown over by Pan and Wendy too the crocodile. But that had been many years ago. He had not seen that blasted crocodile in a while. But when Peter had brought Wendy's daughter Jane to Neverland a squid-like beast had replaced that position. But even then all of his screams had been ones of fear, it never got to the point where he was creaming in pain. He usually escaped the monster before they could tear him limb from limb as he had done many times in the past. Only once had he heard a scream of pain that had come from his doing. Some of his pirates had disobeyed him on many levels. They stole from him, left his ship regularly and went after Peter Pan, his rival, while he wasn't looking. He had punished them in front of the whole crew by using the cat o' nine tails, a whip made of nine whips, each bearing a sharp spike at the end. There had been a lot of blood and every blow had brought those screams too his ears. He never had to use the cat again. And this relieved him.

As he walked further on he snapped himself out of his thoughts to realize that his walk, which just a moment ago had been an obstacle course of trees, was now becoming easier. The forest thinned out, allowing his strides to become more spaced apart and his feet to move faster. And soon he reached the meadow. He never had been here before. But he wished he had known about it sooner. He was standing in an open field. It was much brighter here as it was directly under the moon and stars. He could see across the whole field. But something wasn't right. Two trees were growing in the middle. It ruins the effect, he thought to himself glumly. That was, until the trees move. One was stumbling quickly away, trying to escape. The other was quickly chasing her. The figures were black, no more than silhouettes in the darkness, but one thing stood out in the dark. Above the taller persons head was raise a large knife, which he dug into the hurt persons side. Another scream, this one shriller then all the others could be heard. The Captain moved faster, not even realizing he had been moving before. But he figure, the attacker, must have seen him coming because he turned and ran. "Blast him." Hook muttered to himself. He had been itching for a good fight. He hurried over to the figure and then slowed himself, not wanting too scare whoever it was. He could just make out her facial features in what little light he had. Girl. It was definitely a very young girl. Wait a minute! He knew this girl… she traveled with Pan. She could be equally blamed for the years of humiliation and the countless times his pride had been shattered. He raised his hook to her face, preparing to finish the kill. This would end this brat. He wouldn't have to deal with her any more.

The girl opened her eyes slightly to stare at the Captain. Her eyes were misty, not there usual mischievous sparkle. Her gaze was one filled with fear and he though that she must not have known who she was looking at. For all she knew he was her attacker. She pushed against his arm with her hands. "No more." She begged him over and over again. Hook stopped his arm from slitting open the girl's throat so he could look her over and see exactly why she was lying here like she was. Her stomach, from one side of her to the other, had a deep gash in it. And her left leg, thigh to ankle had received the same treatment. Large bruises covered her arms. He lowered his hook in defeat. Although he was a bloodthirsty pirate he still considered himself a gentleman. And killing her while she had been through some much and was in this condition would be against all of his ethics. "Bad form." He told himself. This girl needed help and he was going to have to help her.

The girl had stopped talking and was lying unconscious in the grass at his feet. He kneeled down next to her so he could examine her more closely. Yes, she was hurt very badly. He examined both wounds and finally concluded that they needed stitching up. They were very large and very deep and blood was seeping out of them fast. Another hour, hour and a half, and she would be dead from the loss of blood. The bruises were nothing; they would heal in a few days. The scars however, after she would be stitched back up, would stay for quiet a long time, possibly forever judging by the how severe these wounds were. He put his hand on the scar on her stomach and then above it to check if her ribs had been cut. A groan bubbled out of the girl's ribs and the Captain felt the ribs almost crackle under his fingers. Brocken, her ribs were definitely broken. The trip back was not going to be pleasant.

Captain hook removed his heavy coat and placed it over the girl. It was tattered and ripped anyway and he had plenty more of them so a few bloodstains would not matter. The heavy fabric must hurt her, thought the captain, but he knew from experience that he had to keep her as warm as possible. He lifted up her head with his left hand and slid his arm under her so he was supporting her back, then very carefully so that his hook didn't injure the girls already hurt leg, he placed his over arm under her calves and picked her up. And then the he set out back to the lifeboat and towards the ship, wondering what he had just gotten himself into.


	5. Questions

Captain Hook finally reached the ship. He attached the ropes to the rung on the lifeboat and pulled himself up. "SMEE!" He shouted. Smee cam e bustling out, pulling down his blue striped shirt as he ran. He was a short man and in no ways like a pirate. He was just helpful to have around as he followed orders through very well, usually.

"Captain! How was the trip to the isl-" He broke off, suddenly seeing what the Captain had in his arm's. The Captain who was moving fast, carried a small girl, early teens it seemed, in his arms. And not only that but this girl was the one working with Pan. Smee had seen her before; it was easy to remember the only girl on the island. She was just as destructive as Pan had been but with no flight to assist her. She was quick, smart and a great escape artist. She had stolen a lot of treasure on her own from the poor Captain and had somehow always escaped with no more then a scratch, and even that was rare. So why now was the Captain bringing her here hurt? A hostage probably. Or maybe she was going to die here and she was just hurt from the blows she had already received from Hook.

"Captain?" He asked, pointing to the girl.

"Smee, I have no time to talk. I'm going to need your doctoring skills for just a moment. Bring everything you need to stitch up someone and bring it fast." He was shouting by the end and then he turned and hurried into his quarters, shutting the door with the heel of his shoe.

_So the wounds were not inflicted by him_, thought Smee to himself as he went to fetch his supplies. He found them in a small box under his bed. Opening the lid he counted the items to make sure they were all there. 2 needles, 5 spools of thin white thread, 3 candles, 1 box of matches and a small bottle of numbing solution. He had to be very careful with the numbing solution though. It was stronger then alcohol. For a grown man this was fine, it could be used many times. But for a small girl, it could only be used a few times. They would have to be very careful with it and make sure not too much was applied. Smee went to the Captains room, grabbing a dozen towels and some rags on the way. Finally he reached the door and after knocking three times went in.

In the room candles were lit everywhere, contrasting the utter darkness that night brought to the ship. And in the light the girl's wounds looked worse then ever. The captain's coat was on her, so none of the wounds actually showed but blood dripped out from under the coat and made a small puddle on the floor. The Captain looked absolutely miffed. He had no idea what to do with the girl. Smee knew he was going to really have to help the Captain on this one. He put all of his supplies down on the armchair and placed three towels down on the floor creating a makeshift operating table. Hook caught on quickly, and placed the girl on the towels. Smee got his supplies and then gently removed the coat of the girl's body. He stepped back immediately. His hands, still holding the coat went to his mouth and began to shake. "Oh dear!" He stammered. Hook stumbled backwards, his jaw dropping. The girl was much worse in the light, that was for sure.

The two slashes on her body were red and oozing with blood. Her nightgown was torn and red, dripping with the red substance. Large bruises covered her arms and one was starting to form on her face. Her lip was swollen and bleeding and she was lying in an unnatural position because of a few broken ribs. This girl needed help now. Wasting no time Smee dropped the coat and rummaged through the box grabbing the white thread, a needle and a match. He lit the match and put the needle in the flame, giving it a few good turns to disinfect it. When he was sure the needle was sterile he threaded it and prepared to sew up the girls leg. Quickly he laced it through the first patch of broken skin and began to sew, one stitch at a rime. He went slowly, not wanting to falter with this delicate procedure. After about 15 minutes he had only had 18 stitches done and had reached around her knee. He stopped what he was doing for a minute when he saw that the bleeding had not yet stopped. He grabbed one of the rags, twisted it into a rat-tail and then tightly bound it around the unsown portion. He did the same to her stomach and then covered both with a towel, trying to keep as much blood in her body as possible until he could sew up the wounds. While he worked, reaching to right below her knee, Smee allowed himself to look up. The Captain had not spoken through this whole time. He was now pacing nervously and every so often he would look the girl over. Some sort of look would take over his eyes at these points. Smee couldn't tell what it was though. He had never seen it grace the Captains face ever before. Then he understood. It was sadness, guilt, pity, and amazing enough, nervousness. _Why should he feel all of those things for a girl he hates? _Thought Smee. While he was working he hadn't realized that the girl was stirring.

Smee shrugged in defeat and poured some alcohol into a basin. Because of all the panicking he had forgotten to disinfect the wound. It wasn't too late though. He soaked one of the towels in the bowl and placed it over the injury. The girl's eyes shot open as pain shot up her leg. A gasp came from deep within her and turned into a shriek of confusion and pain. Smee and Captain Hook, both realizing the girl was awake both reached out to restrain her. But they were too late. The girl had no idea what was going on, but at the sight of two men grabbing for her, she panicked. She tried to stand, but then fell on top of her wound and the needle still hanging from the stitches. She shrieked again and started to crawl and pull herself around, all the while trying to stand. A hand grabbed her waist to try and pull her back. Bu they crushed her ribs further, which only resulted in her fighting harder. She tried to escape the hand, but it dragged her back to her place. During the struggle she looked around in confusion and realized that her opponent was none other than Hook. Another gasp came from her lips and now she was fighting for her life. But although she was strong, she was no match for a full-grown man when she was hurt like this. He finally got her back to the towels and pinned her down. One and held her wrists together to her side, the hook pinned her neck down to the floor.

"Mr. Smee! Finish your work now. We don't have much time now."

Smee grabbed the needle threading it once again and beginning where he had ended last. He kept one of his hands down on her ankles to keep her from kicking him. She struggled her hardest against the two people but that just resulted in her hurting herself.

Finally, Smee finished her leg. Although he was sure it had been painful and lasted forever to the girl, she had done it. He had to commend her for that at least. She had lay there for at least two hours. But now was the harder one, her stomach. That was going to hurt much, much worse. Wait, he had the pain medicine! Smee had forgotten entirely about it. He grabbed it, showing it too Hook. Hook just nodded. Smee grabbed a spoon in one of the captain's silverware drawers. He poured out a little bit of the thick brown liquid. It smelled like rubbing alcohol and tar. He guessed it wasn't far from either. But this would put her to sleep long enough too finish his work. Smee finished pouring out the right amount of medicine and gave the spoon to Captain Hook. "Captain, I need to thread the next needle and try to clean and stanch the wound. Though I don't think I'll be able to stanch it." He said thoughtfully. "So you need to get her to take this." Smee started threading the next needle, first putting it through the fire to clean it.

While he was getting ready to start again Hook tried to get the putrid substance down the girls throat. He grabbed the girl's jaw, ready to force her moth open and pour the brown thick liquid into her mouth, but she saw it and didn't think of it as a pain reliever, but immediately thought of who she was with and what they would try to do to her. For all she knew that could be poison. So she did the obvious, she refused it.

"Eat it! You stupid girl, just eat it!" Hook was now infuriated. He was trying to help and she just continued to make it harder. How was he supposed to help her if she wasn't going to let her? Looking down at her his eyes turned to something that shone in the candlelight. His hook. If he used it he could possibly force her too… no. He wouldn't want to make it worse. But he didn't really have a choice. He tightened his grip on the girl's wrists and then put his hook up to her arm, right above her elbow. Why was he having such a hard time doing this? Oh well. If he wanted to help her then he had better just do it. With one swift motion the captain made a cut on the girls arm. It wasn't deep enough to need stitches, but enough to hurt. And it hurt enough to make her gasp, which had been his plan.

Right when the gasp came from her mouth he poured everything on the spoon down her throat. She tried to spit it out, realizing he had done. Quickly he covered her mouth and nose to force her to swallow the putrid substance. The lack of air made her no less stubborn, though it made the struggle much harder. She was using up so much energy so fast and the Captain was worried that she would either hurt herself or pass out first. Actually, passing out might not be such a bad idea.

In a final attempt to break free the girl lay down, closed her eyes and gathered all her strength into one final try. And then she wrenched herself up as hard as she could. She actually did break free of the Captain for a moment, but a moment was not enough and the captain once again had her in the same position. Finally, exhausted, choking from lack of air and completely reluctant, she swallowed the pasty liquid, wincing as it burned her throat.

Hook and Smee looked at girl for a moment, then at each other. In a silent communication they each agreed with what the other was thinking. _She gave up_. Hook slowly took his hand off the girl's wrist, allowing both him and her, but mostly her, to relax. She lay on the towel breathing heavily. Each inhale was ragged and sounded choked and blocked. It scared him quite a lot. If they wanted to save this girl they were going to have to do something now, or as soon as possible.

Smee picked up the needle and raised his eyebrow at the captain as if to say, should I start again. He didn't want to say it out loud, for feat that she might once again try to escape, and God knows they needed that again. Hook looked down at the now pale face of the girl on the floor. He wanted to say yes, to help her as soon as possible, but somehow he found that his hand had gone up in a _wait one-moment_ gesture. He looked at his hand, confused by the movement. Then it came to him. He didn't want to hurt the girl.

_Arg! What's wrong with me? _He asked himself. _A year ago… no… a mere day ago I would have killed this girl on the spot for all that she did to me. Why do I not want her hurt? Why do I care? _He looked down at the girl again. That was a good question. Why did he care? He had never cared before. So why now? Why, when his enemy was at her weakest, when she could do nothing from stopping him driving a night through her chest, why did he feel the need to save her instead? It was all so confusing.

As he was thinking he noticed the girl's eyes becoming dull and droop. Was the medicine supposed to do that? He thought it had just relieved pain.

"Smee, what does that concoction that we gave her do?

"Well sir, it makes the area that needs to be stitched up or treated numb. Quite brilliant actually. It follows the flow of blood to the open wound." he pointed to her mouth then down to her leg to show where the medicine traveled. "Then it stays in that spot, like her leg and stomach, until the effect wears off, which should be in about 24 hours. Even so, we had better hurry."

"So it does not make one fall asleep?"

"Good heavens, no!" He said with a laugh. Sleeping would be dire in a situation like this. The only way to tell if a patient is alive is if they're awake. Why do you ask?"

The captain's eyes opened in horror and then he pointed to the girls face. Her eyes were just slits now, and it was obvious that she was moments from visiting dreamland. Smee gasped loudly, grabbing the needle and threading it as quickly as his fumbling hands could work.

"Quick Captain! Talk to her!"

"What?"

Smee looked nervous and exasperated, a look the captain rarely saw on the jolly man's face. "We need to keep her awake sir! Talk to her! Try to keep her from sleeping!"

"What do I say?"

"It doesn't matter, sir!" He said briskly, cleaning the needle. "What's important is you keep her awake. She falls asleep and she is never going to wake up!"

That made the Captain understand. He sat closer to the girl, making sure to keep an eye on Smee to see how his work was coming along. He nudged her with his foot. When she didn't respond, he started to worry, and then nudged his foot into her side, accidentally kicking her scar. Although the pain was going down quickly it still hurt quite a bit. And she let that show by opening her eyes and sucking in air quickly.

"Wha waz zat for?" She mumbled under her breath.

"I just wanted to know how old you are?"

"Wha'? Why?"

"Just answer the question"

The girl looked ready to put up a fight, but then her eyes drifted to the hook, gleaming in all of the pulsing lights surrounding them. And just that was enough to drain all of the fight out of her.

"I don't know." Her voice became less of a mumble and was beginning to become clear enough to understand, but it was still hoarse, ragged and weak.

"Why?"

"I've been here to long to remember. But when I got here I was a teenager. Around fifteen I think." She nodded her head, grimacing at the slight action. "Yes, that's right, I'm fifteen."

"Oh, very good. What's your favorite book? Or do you not know how to read?

At that, he received a rather cold glare. "Just because I live with the lost boys doesn't mean I don't know how to read." The length f that sentence and the mere effort of being mad, annoyed even, drained all of the energy she had out of her. She lay there for a second, taking deep breathes. For a moment he thought she might be falling asleep, and was ready to kick her again when she answered his question.

"Pride and Prejudice."

"What?"

"You wanted to know what my favorite book was, and I'm telling you. Pride and prejudice."

"Oh."

"Well then what is-"

"Captain?" Smee said, interrupting the captain's next question. "I really advise we begin now."

"Oh, yes go ahead Mr. Smee."

At the touch of the cold metal needle on her stomach, the girls face paled and sweat beaded on her brow. The medicine hadn't taken full effect yet. If it had, she wouldn't have been able to feel the metal touch her skin. The captain noticed this and for some reason tried to help her.

"Don't pay attention to that. Just look at me." He tilted her face towards him and stared her strait in the eye. "Answer these questions, they'll take your min doff of thing's, okay?"

"Okay…" Her voice was weak and quivering, she was so scared.

"Favorite animal?"

"Fish"

"Favorite color?"

"Red"

"Favorite hobby?"

"Reading."

At each question another stitch was pulled through the skin. She seemed to be noticing it less and less, which was good. All the captain had to do was keep talking.

"Place?"

"The lagoon."

"Kind of treasure?"

"Gold."

Two hours of fast talking and sewing later and Smee was on his last stitches. The girl was exhausted, both from pain which still resided in her wound, and from just being up at these late hours under such harsh conditions.

"One more question, okay" She nodded. "What's your name?"

The girl hesitated, not sure if she should answer or not. So far, all of his questions were on colors, animals and other not quite so personal things. At the present moment she was in the hands of her enemy and couldn't tell if he was her savior or her captor. If he was her savior then he deserved to know. If he was her captor then he had one more thing to use against her.

Another sharp pain came from her skin as it was pierced again. She had started her brain up again and that allowed her to think about pain.

"Just answer the question. I promise it will help." He said softly, trying to sound das soothing as possible.

"Lillie" was all she said, her voice now barely audible. "My name is Lillie." He had promised she would feel better after answering the question, and some how, she did.


	6. Worse

The next few days were awful. Not only did Hook and Smee have to tend to the girl every few hours to make sure her recovery went well, but the girl, Lillie was her name Hook had remembered, began to get very sick. The wounds, now probably infected, were probably one of the causes to her high fevers.

It hadn't started right away though. The first night had been fine. Lillie had slept fairly easily, only waking up every few hours to let out a whimper of pain. But the medicine stayed in her system for 24 hours, just as Smee had promised.

The next night though, was not at all as easy as the first. Never Land is known very well for it's rapid change in temperature. The night before Lillie's attack it had been perfect. Soft breezes had carried the cool air and circulated it through ever place it could find. Everyone had slept easily that night. The next had been one of the hottest that week. And the night after the attack had been cold. So unbearably cold.

Smee had been tending to Lillie for a day now and she still hadn't woken up. The only reason he knew she was still alive and well, as well as she could be, was the uneven rise and fall of her chest as she breathed in air. He had tended to her wounds and had left her there on the floor in the cabin, with nothing but the thin ripped nightshirt she had been wearing. He thought that the thick blankets would smother her wounds, making them worse. Bust as the night progressed and no one came to check on her the cold air decided to pay her a visit of its own.

The air traveled in through the cracks of the ship and through the space under the door. It surrounded her, becoming a living animal in it's own way. The sharp cold breezes became claws; the speed of the wind ran around its prey and the howling wind growled like a beast ready to strike.

And there she lay all night on the hard wooden floor. The beast of the air slowly killing off what was left of her by tearing and shredding and freezing her weak body. Her arms hugged herself, guarding herself against the wind. But the beast pushed on. The wind picked up, rocking the ship as it threw the water and created huge waves ready to swallow the ship whole. The boat rocked forcefully like an overzealous mother to her baby, rocking it to sleep with such energy that the infant could crawl out. The only thing that shook more than the boat was Lillie.

Her body shivered and shook in an unnatural way, trying so hard to keep itself warm. But without the aid from another person, and stuck in the heavy realm of sleep, she was defenseless against the beast that swirled through the night air.

o 0 o

The next morning the storm had ended. The deck was littered with seaweed and salt from the evaporated water. The sun shone clearly and not a cloud was in the blue sky. The crew had been awakened earlier then usual this morning by the captain who had order _those lazy dogs_ to pick out ever fish and ocean plant out of the masts. Sea salt from the deck was swept away but all morning the smell remained, sharp on the nose. Sand that had been collected by the crashing waved was scattered on the deck leaving gold patches here and there, and wherever the captain walked he heard a crunch under his shoe. This was going to take a while to clean up.

Besides the ship, the captain's mind kept going back to that girl. He knew he had to help her, he already had saved her and it would be pointless to waste all that time he spent watching her be sewn up. But what about after? He could hold her hostage! Pan and the lost boys seemed to be fond of her quite a bit. He could use her to kill Pan. And then he could kill her as well. He twirled his long sharp moustache with his hook in a devious way. Then he thought harder. A mother. That was another thing he could make her.

She was very young, only in her teens, as she had told him earlier. But still, she looked like the right material to be a mother for the crew. And if she refused, well… the plank was getting cold. Good, well at least he had a plan now. "Smee. How is our patient doing?" He turned to the man who at the time was holding a bucket of seaweed he had collected from the deck and was getting ready to throw it over.

"Well, I don't know. I checked on her a few hours before the storm. And she was just fine then. Her recovery seemed to be going just fine and she's alive, that's all that counts." He threw the seaweed over board dropping the bucket, and when he tried to catch it almost went over himself. He adjusted his glasses and watched the ripples from the dropped item for a moment before sighing in defeat and wiping his hands on his trousers. "I was going to check on her in a few moments. Unless you would rather I check now?"

"Yes, Mr. Smee. That would be fine."

Smee nodded and walked towards the captain's quarters leaving the captain on the deck by himself. He patted his coat where his pockets were, trying to see if anything would be there to keep him entertained. There! He pulled his spyglass out and extended its body to its full length then placed the lens to his eye. "Pan's not out yet." he muttered to himself as he scanned the skies. He directed the lens toward the island itself.

In the day time the island was very lovely. Rolling hills covered most of the land creating the look of a very large green rock. Spaces where there was n land appeared here and there where lagoons and river's were. The rainbow was in the same spot it always was, covering the island and landing in the lagoon. He drifted the lens over to skull rock and smiled to himself. If the girl didn't cooperate then he could tie her up there. The tide would rise and she would drown. It was a perfect plan, and could be easily made possible. And because she couldn't fly made that plan even more appealing.

Smee's loud clomping sandals on the deck broke his thoughts. Just by listening Hook could tell it was urgent; Smee never ran anywhere.

"Captain!" He shouted. Yes, it was urgent. The captain retracted his spyglass and turned to Smee.

"Yes, Mr. Smee?"

"It's worse! I mean, not it. She. She's worse!"

"How can she be worse? She was already as bad as she could be!"

"Well, I went into the room and she was very pale, and I thought that was normal. She had lost a lot of blood. But then I felt her head. She's burning up, sir! Bad fever and those wounds! That can't be good!"

All this time Hook had been striding towards his cabin door, Smee skipping and tripping over himself in an effort to keep up. Hook opened his door and Smee slammed it shut after him, catching the captain's fingers in the process. "Smee! SMEE! Get this door off me!"

"Oops! My apologies captain!" He blurted out, opening the door. As soon as the captain had a free hand he grabbed Smee by the collar of his shirt, hoisting him up off the floor and held his hook to the mans large nose. Smee adjusted his glasses in fear.

"Why you little-!" Shouted Hook, then stopped as stirring was heard from next to him. He looked across the room then dropped Smee down onto his back as he rushed over to Lillie. He put his hand on her head. Yes, it was hot. That wasn't good. All thoughts of killing her disappeared as he tried to figure out what to do. Fumbling with the position of his hook near her skin he finally managed to pick her up. She moaned as her ribs crackled. He had forgotten about that, they had been so concerned about her other injuries. He slowly walked across the room and motioned to Smee with his head. "Pull back the covers." He whispered. Smee picked himself off the ground, adjusted his glasses one last time and then jogged clumsily over to the captain's large bed. He pulled back the heavy covers and then the sheet then quickly bandaged over her ribs. The captain placed Lillie on the soft mattress and then pulled both sets of covers over her. "We'll have to watch her carefully now, Mr. Smee. You are to check on her ever two hours, and that is an order."

Smee gulped. "Yes captain."

o 0 o

The next few days were a challenge. Smee fixed her up every two hours, every day. Cleaning and bandaging her wounds, wrapping up her torso the help her ribs heal faster, dressing all of her gashes with alcohol and making sure her temperature stayed down. Her arm where the captain had cut her in an effort to make her take the pain reliever was not infected, much to Smee's relief. It was healing quickly and after just a day had now become a puckered white scar.

She stayed unconscious which was both a blessing and a curse. It was good she was getting all of the rest. But getting her to eat and drink was hard. He didn't want her choking on food, so he decided to settle on just giving her water until she woke up. And that in itself was a challenge. He finally figured out that if he tilted her head up he could get her to swallow some liquid. It want much, but she had to stay hydrated, so any amount counted.

Over the days her fever lessened. But her wounds stayed stubborn, getting infected regularly. Smee was sometimes worried that at the slightest movement the stitches would pop out. Much to his relief, during the days he was unconscious nothing too bad happened.

It was when she woke up that their problems begun.


	7. Waking Up

Everyone says that nature is beautiful. It's a canvas for trees, flowers and everything that makes our world exceptional and unique. But the truth is, while nature is quite lovely, it would not be half of what it is without the aid of light. Light captures everything, setting it up for the perfect picture, showing off every line, every sparkle and every gleam. It's what makes the rivers seem too twinkly, the leaves seem to glow and the night seem so dark. Without life, we would be nothing.

But besides being beautiful, light can also be a major annoyance. And this morning, that was exactly what it was.

Light flooded in through the window of the captain's quarters and flooded itself through the room leaving no space untouched by its golden glow. As the hours went by the light moved farther, finally reaching the bed that Lillie lay on. The light seemed to stop for a moment, contemplating whether or not to wake her up. Then it seemed to shrug and continued over her face. She turned over, burying her face in the pillow and thick covers, but the light persisted. It tapped her shoulder and snuck around. But when it found no way to wake her up directly it hit every shining object it could find, covering the once softly lit room with bright shining gleams. And that did the trick.

At first she only stirred, but finally she batted her eyes and opened them. She squinted for a moment adjusting to the contrast of dark to light. But finally her eyes adjusted to the bright light and she could finally look at her surroundings.

She was in a fairly large room. The walls and floor were all made from a deep red wood similar to the trees in the forest she lived in. In fact this might be the same wood. There weren't many lights, just a few oil lamps here and there. There was a table, two wooden chairs and a desk. Everything else in the room was red. The red velvet curtains, the large tall backed red velvet chair and the red coats that lined the open closet.

This room was noting like the room she slept in every night. Her room was dusty, mainly because it was made from dirt. The walls were covered in leaves or animal pelts and it smelled like the forest. This room was elegant and expensive and smelled like the ocean. Strange, she didn't remember moving here. In fact, she couldn't remember anything. The last day was a blur. Last day or last days? How long had it been?

She decided to see everything for herself. Putting her palms down on the mattress she pushed up with her arms, then gasped and slid back down. Hot tears sprang in her eyes but she forced them to stay where they were. **Stay strong**, she told herself. **You have to be ready for anything. But why was she hurting so badly**. She looked down at herself.

She was lying in a large four-poster, high back, and red wood bed. The mattress she was lying on was obviously expensive, feather probably. And the covers on her were heavy red velvet. The weight stung her torso and leg. She slowly peeled off the covers and muffled a shriek. The nightshirt she was wearing was stained with blood. Lifting up her nightshirt ever so slightly she looked at her leg and this time muffled a shriek. A huge scar was protruding like a tree root through the ground all the way up her leg.

And then it all came back. The attacker, the stitches, the awful medicine, the questions. And although it was still blurry, it was there. But there was one more thing that was attached to this story. Her savior, if she remembered correctly had been… no! Not possible! Your enemy is not your savior. It was all just a dream. She looked around the room. **Maybe this is still the dream**, she thought. **Yes that's it! It's just all a dream. Any second now I'm going to wake up and**…

The door opened. A tall man walked in. He had a red coat. He had a large hat. He had a hook.

And this time, Lillie didn't let out a muffled scream.

She just plain screamed.


	8. You're Right Not To Trust Me

**The part with the document was sort of based off of something similar in Peter Pan 2.**

o 0 o

The captain never expected a marching band or a medal for what he did. He never expected the girl to smile widely at him and agree to be the mother, though it would be nice and easier on his part, or to say that she was forever in his debt. What he _**did**_ expect though was maybe a smile or even just a thank you! But no. What did he get? He got a scream. As soon as he opened the door to check on the now not unconscious girl all she did was scream. What kind of thank you was that!

The captain slammed the door and ran over to the bed. With his hook he pushed the girl down onto the bed again so she wouldn't hurt herself, and with the other hand he muffled her scream. She kept on struggling against him, pushing his arm with all the strength she had, which wasn't much.

"Stop it you stupid girl!" He said. "Don't you see! I'm trying to help you!"

For a minute the girl gave him a skeptical look, then she slowly took the pressure off his forearm. "Do you really think I'm going to believe that?" Her voice was ragged and her eyes looked infuriated. But Hook could see in ever movement she made that she was tense and scared.

"How? Well, for one, you in my room. Two your in my bed and I had to be confined to the table on the deck for the past few days. And three… **You have stitches all over you!**" He yelled the last part while he gestured to her with his hook. "Isn't that enough?"

"Not really. How can I believe the man who just last week tried to kill me!"

"You were stealing my treasure!"

"You almost put a hook through my neck!"

Both of them just stared at each other for a moment, trying to decide if the argument was even worth it. Finally Hook gave up. _She is just as stubborn as me_, he thought. _Wonderful. Is she trying to make me kill her even faster?_"

"Look, how about we make a deal." He reached into his inside coat pocket and brandished out a piece of rolled up parchment. He waved it in her face. "A contract, of you will." He plucked his feather out of his hat and started writing, glancing up every few words every few seconds to give her a smug smile.

"I, Captain James Hook, nobly swear not to harm one hair on Miss Lillie's head." Clever, Hook. He thought to himself. Loopholes are good. Unfortunately, she didn't see past his trick.

"No. Change it. That can be said two ways. And one of them refers to a literal hair on my head. Change it."

This time, the Captain knew he had met his match. He glumly tore up the document and pulled out another piece of paper, this time not looking so smug as he wrote it.

"I, Captain James Hook, hear by swear not to harm Miss Lillie until she is at a state to defend herself." He gave her the document to look over. "Better now?"

She scanned the text and nodded. "Sign it."

Once again he glumly took the parchment and slowly scribbled his name across it. He showed it to her and she nodded again.

"Good, because after two documents I don't think you would have survived." He muttered, flashing her an angry, and frankly very evil, glare. "So now do you trust me to help you."

"Not likely, Hook."

This time, the captain was really mad. His face turned red and he spluttered out his words.

"Wait! Why the devil not! Wasn't the document enough."

"Captain, I may be young, but I've lived here long enough to know you are **not**, in any way, a man of your word."

The captain and her glared at each other again. And one could swear that they saw smoke coming out of the captain ears.

"Very well, Miss Lillie. Don't trust me. But if you want to survive here long I highly recommend that you think about it. We wouldn't want anything to happen."

"Wait! You signed a contract!"

"Well, I'm not a ma of my word, remember?" And with that the infuriated Captain left the room, slamming the door behind him.

o 0 o

Even after all the things that he had said, Hook continued to harm the girl. It was strange. Did he **want** her to trust him, or was it more of the issue that he needed her alive. He decided to go with the second one to be safe.

He checked on the girl every hour between Smee's shifts. Usually she was asleep, but when she was awake it usually ended up in a fight. The girl was stubborn, but also very sick. Her fever had not yet gone away and she refused to eat anything they brought her. She was getting weaker by the day and Both Smee and the Captain were getting very worried. Without nutrition or hydration her wounds got worse and her fever got higher.

But the last straw came when the third day after she woke up arrived. Smee had been checking on the girl once again. She seemed to trust Smee a little more then she did the captain. Once again she had refused the bread Smee tried to give her and he had walked out defeated. And that was when the captain walked by. He took one look at Smee, saw the uneaten bread in his hand and blew up.

"That's it! He yelled. He grabbed the bread of the plate Smee had brought and stormed into the room. The girl was half asleep at the time so she shrieked when the door slammed open. She sprang up but went back down with whimper, hugging her stomach and ribs. The captain felt a twinge of pity of what he was about to do. Then he looked at the girl again. She was so pale and so sick. And all that pity just disappeared. He stormed up the the bed and waved the bread in her face. "Eat. This. Now."

"No!"

"Why!"

"Because. What if it happens to be poisoned."

That took the captain by surprise. Finally he sighed and dragged one of the wooden chairs up to the side of the bed. He put it down by her head and sat down. Giving her a hard, but not mean, stare he put the bread near her face. "Look, I know it's hard to trust me. I do. But I want to help you. That and it is terribly bad luck to have a person, not in the crew, die on your ship. So please, will you just eat something?"

She continued to stare at him, a little scared but a little less stubbornly.

"look." He said, tearing off a piece of bread. He ate the piece and gave her a _see I told you_, look. Finally, she took the bread and tore off small pieces, chewing them slowly.

"See, if it had been poisoned, you would have been dead by now." He told her. He got up and walked across the room to where he kept the liquor supply. He reached under the cabinet and retrieved a small cup. He placed it on the counter next to all of the jars of liquor and then reached under again and took out what looked like another liquor jar. He some into the glass, closed the bottle and then strode back to the bed. He sat down and handed the small glass to Lillie. She took it and looked at It suspiciously.

"What is it?" She asked.

"Okay, let's just make something clear. My method of killing does not always involve poison. I only keep a small bottle of poison with me and believe me, I am not wasting it on you. Nothing you eat or drink when you are on my ship will be poisoned. If I was going to kill you it would be by this," He brandished his hook. "or by this." He took out his rifle and pointed it at her head. She tensed up and his face softened. "But I made a deal, remember?"

That seemed to calm her down. She put the cup down in a spot on the mattress where she knew it wouldn't fall over. Then she put her palms down on either side of her, ready to push herself up again. She knew it would hurt. She had been through it already. But she needed to move. And it would make her time drinking water easier. She was so thirsty.

Hook saw her getting ready to lift herself up. He wanted to stop her but decided against it. She was so stubborn and it would only result in a fight. He did though get ready to catch her if she fell.

With every bit of strength she had, Lillie pushed herself up. She cried in agony as her stomach and ribs bent. Hook swore he heard something inside her break, or maybe it had been something inside of him. He couldn't help but feel bad for this girl. She had been through so much in a day and he expected her to just trust him. It was sort of silly, he admitted. She had been right; he wasn't a very trustworthy person. But something about her made him want her to trust him.

His thoughts were broken by another whimper of pain. This time he put out his hands to support her back. But stopped when she tensed and stayed in the position she was in, staring at his hands. Her face went from pained to fear stricken. He looked down to where her eyes were directed, his hook. He put his hands nearer to her, trying not to scare her. But that only resulted in her backing slowly away, letting out a squeak of pain as she did. And that did it. He wasn't going to let this girls problem trusting him get her hurt. If she didn't want to trust him, fine. But he wasn't just going to sit there and let her suffer.

He sprang forward quickly and put one hand behind her back and put his other hand, the one with the hook, around the top of her arm, the one closest to him. She tried to back away but he just did what Smee had told him to do the other night, talk to her and she'll become distracted.

"Don't worry, we'll have you up in a second. Are you comfortable? How are you feeling? Do you think your wounds are improving?" He asked her questions, said quick comments and all the while was getting her into a good sitting position. Finally, when he had her in a spot that was the least painful he sat back down. She was still tense about having him so close but seemed to have relaxed a bit more.

The captain saw that look on her face. He knew why she had to be scared of him. It was so obvious. But still, he felt like he had a right to know.

"My dear," He started with, then decided to change it. He only used my dear when he was about to kill someone. She must have remembered that when he had said it to Wendy because the slight trust in her face disappeared.

"Lillie." He said quickly, trying to make up for it. "Why are you so scared of me right now?"

It took her a moment to answer, but when she did, it surprised him. "Every time you got this close to me," she gestured to where he was sitting next to the bed. "It was usually because you wanted to kill me. I guess I didn't realize… I didn't realize you don't plan to kill people all day. Just having you have a discussion is surprising. But I cant get over the feeling that your just planning my demise, or something close to it, right now."

Hook thought back to his plans for the girl, and smiled inwardly. She was a smart one. And if she got to smart, she would soon be a dead one. Yes he was planning her demise, but he couldn't kill her right away. He had made a contract, and Captain Hook never breaks his promise. "You are right not to trust me, girl." He said, sneering out the girl part. "But for right now, as long as you remain helpless, you are safe. Just prey you don't make a fast recovery. And if you do, hope you can get out in time." And with that he got up and walked out shutting the door quietly behind him.


	9. Fear of Water

**This update took a while. Curses writers block! But here it is. The next chapter will just be a discussion between her and Smee, nothing too fancy. But it will give me enough time to figure out her way of escaping (if she even gets that far).**

**o 0 o**

The door had closed five hours ago. And since then hook had not gone into the room to see her again. She guessed that it was either because he was content she had eaten something or just really mad at her. She decided that it was the second answer, because with Hook that seemed more reasonable.

But his anger was not her main priority right now. And she could really care less. What was important was that in one hour Smee was coming to check on her. He would be in here on the dot. And one hour was enough time to figure out how to get out when he left, because one hour was enough time to plan it and two was enough to put it into action.

Bracing herself she bit her lip so as not to scream and pushed herself up into a sitting position. It took every ounce of energy not to scream, but she just barely pulled through. Barely. Finally she had herself in enough of a position that she could see everything around her.

Looking around she saw that there was only one door in the room and that led strait to the deck. But nearer to the bed there was a desk that, if one stood on it, a small window could be reached. It was going to be a tight fit but there was no doubt in her mind that she could reach it. She had learned from experience that when humans become frightened and are put into desperate situations they will do anything they can to stay alive. Just like that night… she shuddered. Just like that night, her body had kept moving regardless of the pain.

She let that thought slide and continued to stare at the window. It looked easy enough to open, just a simple push out window. It was rectangular and just big enough for a large dog to slip through, which was plenty of room for her. The only thing that troubled her was what would be there when she got out. There were windows next to her, but she hadn't realized them until now. Mostly because they looked like art. They were large stained glass windows with intriquit disigns of ships at war painted in bright colors. It was beautiful, but there was no way she could see through to get an idea of what awaited her outside. She couldn't tell if she was on the edge of the ship or in the middle. If she slid out the window there was a chance she would land on the deck and a chance she would land in the water. And at the moment that was both bad. If she slipped out to the deck there might be many of the crew there. And she had no idea how far away from shore they were if she fell into the icy blue deep. And as much as she hated the thought of being caught sneaking out by the crew and captain directly, the horror of falling into the ocean was much, much greater.

After about ten minutes of careful planning she had the general idea in her head. Smee would be coming to look at her in about twenty-five to thirty minutes. When he left she would bind her wounds so as to avoid blood loss, or at least avoid massive blood loss. When she was sure her wounds were secure she would climb on the desk and sneak out the window. Since it was so large she could easily see out it first to assume her position. Then once she had an idea of where she was she would refer to either plan A of plan B.

Plan A was the crew. If she looked out and saw that she was indeed on the deck she would wait until she was sure her side was empty and no eyes turned to that side of the boat. She was very good at being quiet. An expert really. That was how she had come to gain so much treasure from Hook. So sneaking wasn't really the issue. The issue was if someone from the crew happened to see her. Then she would be in all kinds of trouble.

Plan B was a bit simpler. And secretly it was the plan she was hoping for… sort of. If she happened to look out and see waves below her then she would jump. And that was all there was to it. The only issues were her wounds in water. The stitches could easily come out and hurt her more. Not to mention attract a shark. And then the second reason. Water. She absolutely hated water. Heights she disliked, the dark was okay and fire she was fine with. But water. No way. It had bothered from the start that she would be living on an island and it had taken the lost boys and Peter months to get her just to put her feet in the sand of the beach.

She shuddered remembering the time she had first set foot in the water.

_She had been very young and had loved it. Absolutely adored it. Her mother had gone with her to keep her busy while she avoided her. She hadn't been the best of mothers. She could remember walking onto the beach for the first time. The sun shone down like it's own lighthouse and the sparkling rays hit the water and made it shimmer. Waves crashed on the shore creating white foam and mist. And when she looked far out all she could see was a vast highway of blue, green and grey. It looked like a field, a large endless field whose grass rippled when the wind danced with it. It had captured everything inside her and she had kept that memory like a picture. But just like any picture, one event can corrupt it. Whether a fire destroys it, age decays it or a harsh event taints it. And that was exactly what happened to her._

_She had finally reached the water, exited to be able to touch the cool surface. She didn't know if she should swim in it, it looked slightly frightening. But she took her chances. Slowly, with much hesitation, she inched her way through the ebbing water. Small fish swirled around her feet and sewed stuck itself around her ankles and between her toes. A small crab stopped in front of her as if contemplating whether or not the figure in front of it was a threat. Then deciding that no harm was trying to be made he scurried on._

_Lillie watched him leave then looked out further. About thirty feet away lay a small island of rocks. On the largest rock lay something that glinted in the sun. She didn't know what it was but, being a small child, she wanted it. Slowly pushing herself further through the water she came closer and closer to her destination and prize. But she never realized the water getting higher on her. And she also didn't notice how the water quickly started ot decrease in height. But she did notice the gurgling sound that came just moments after._

_Her ears shot up. What was that sound? It was like a hose when water is about to reach its destination of the sound of rain pattering. Then she looked up. A wave headed directly towards her was increasing in size and speed. She stood still, not knowing whether to run or duck. She looked toward the beach for her mother but found that she wasn't watching. Who was she kidding; she could care less about her._

_Lillie cupped her hands around her mouth to shout for help. Surely someone could hear her. She was very young but very smart and she knew that someone would save her. But she wasn't quiet old enough to know that while people should come, they don't always do. And then the wave hit. She was dragged, hurdled and pushed against every hard surface imaginable. She tried to scream but only took in some of the foul sandy water. She choked and small pieces of dirt stung her eyes. It seemed to never end. Everything was leaving. The ocean, blue and foggy in front of her became darker and the shapes of rocks seemed to become fuzzier. She stopped screaming. I'm going to die. Was all she said? And it was then that the wave stopped._

_She choked out water and sand and then ran for her life to the beach. And once the sand she stood on was dry and there was no chance of any water reaching her she collapsed unconscious onto the warm golden floor. The last thing she saw was the ocean glinting under the suns light. The rays seemed to turn the water red and the glint off the surface became a malicious wink, as if to say you're lucky I let you off easy this time. Sleep well little girl. I'll see you soon enough._

Lillie shuddered remembering the feeling of not being able to breathe. The… other night she had seen the lake and had wanted to swim. Even that had surprised her at first. But het lost boys had pushed her into lakes for her too many times and she never went too far in. Just to her neck was all she allowed. But then there was that difference between lakes and oceans. Oceans were deeper, darker, more dangerous, and held man more memories. She could deal with lakes. Barely.

She sighed. But if she wanted out, she'd have to deal. She didn't know how to swim but she figured she'd catch on after a minute. But what if she did come to a point where she was stuck. Where swimming, very skilled swimming, would be needed and she had no clue of what to do? Then what? She looked around desreatley until her uyes fell on something promising. In the very corner was a small wooden chair. It sat in a place so when the door opened the chair would be concealed behind it. It was obviously unwanted. The entire thing was falling apart. But the seat of the chair, although it was worn down, had no holes or cracks in it. Of course she couldn't tell for sure, she was too far away. But for her situation even a little crack would have to do. If it was wood it would float. And that was all she needed.

Checking the silent clock on the wall she noted that Smee would be back in roughly ten minutes. She used all the strength she had left to go back into a lying down position and cover herself again. She struggled with every will power she had not to scream or cry. She was definitely not getting any better. And even if she was she shore didn't feel that way.

She lay on the bed her breath ragged and herd from the energy it had taken just to sit up. _It will be worse_ she told herself half hardily. _If… when you escape, you'll need ten times the amount f energy._

Her thoughts were interrupted when the door swung open and Smee walked in.


	10. She's Just A Kid

I always thought Smee was the nicest and clumsiest of all the pirates, so he needed a chapter for everyone to really get to see him. And of course I wanted to show Lillie's characteristics. This is just supposed to show that really she's just a scared kid. And under all that scared stuff that is exactly what she is. A kid. This just showing how she is just a kid and how sweet she really can be!

o 0 o

Her thoughts were interrupted when the door swung open and Smee walked in.

Lillie looked at the man as he came in, fumbling through a first aid box he had in his hands. He was searching for the right equipment. Although she knew he was only trying to help she couldn't help but notice how rusty the box was. The color of the tin looked to be grey but now was the same color as the red + sign on the front. _That cannot be sanitary, _she thought.

Smee stopped rummaging through the kit to look up for a moment, and then let out a small yelp of surprise almost dropping the box. He caught himself and straitened up, snapping the lid with a click. He focused his eyes on her and gave her a look up and down.

"You're awake!"

"You find this startling?" She asked, her eyebrow arching.

"N-no. Sorry Miss. It's just that every time I was here you were either unconscious or delusional."

"Oh. Well, I hope I wasn't any trouble during my… delusional state."

"No trouble at all!" Smee chirped, now gaining more confidence near her. "It was my job after all, Miss –" He searched his mind for the name he knew was their. She saw him struggling and felt sorry for the old man.

"Lillie." She finished for him.

Smee became all smiles once again. "Right, of course! Miss Lillie. Now let me just check on your wounds…" He advanced quickly towards her and she suddenly tensed. Her body lifted up in the slightest, getting ready to pounce up and run if he tried anything. The man didn't really look threatening. In fact he looked a bit like a happy-go-lucky grandfather to her. An old harmless man who worked for pirates to find a bit of excitement but never really knew what he was doing. But he was still a pirate. And pirates could never be trusted.

He saw that she thought that. Just from her face, her eyes became thin slits, her mouth tensed, and every smile line that he could clearly see when she was relaxed vanished. She became a harsh and skeptical girl who trusted no one. And he couldn't blame her. If he ad been through _half _of what she had to deal with he would probably never let anybody come near him again. He advanced toward her slowly and she narrowed her eyes more. Her face was twisting in pain but she tried hard not to show it. She was moving to get away from him and she was hurting herself badly in the process.

Smee put down the box on a nearby table and lifted his hands into the air. It was a surrendering position he had seen many a times by victims of the captain. It was just a way of showing that you had nothing planned. "I'm not going to hurt you." His voice was kept low and steady. "But if I don't help you there's a good chance you could get worse." That seemed to calm her a bit. Her eyes took their regular almond shape once again and she just stared at Smee. Her brown eyes glinted in the sun and he could see the distrust oozing out of her gaze. It was a bit disappointing. Something about this girl made you want her to trust you. But he had no time to think about that now.

He picked up the tin again and slowly walked to the bed. Lillie didn't pull back this time but her fists clenched the velvet covers on the bed. Smee looked at the girl again. He had never taken much time to really look at her, he had been to busy with her wounds. Underneath all of the dried blood and bruises he could tell that she was actually quite a pretty girl. She had very dark hair and large almond eyes that were dark brown but glinted golden in the sun. Her skin was slightly tanned by days of being in the sun and freckles were scattered all over her arms, legs and face. Around her eyes and mouth were many lines, not from wrinkles of age he noted, but from smiling.

But right now there was no smile directed towards him. Her lips were set in a line and her face was so still it could have been stone. He looked away from the uncomfortable glare she was giving him and went back to sorting through his kit. He finally pulled out the needle, thread, alcohol, towel and some sort of amber liquid in a bottle. Threading the needle he put out his hand as a signal to let him have her leg. At first she hesitated and then gave in, pulling the thick covers off and giving him her ankle. He moved her nightgown to her knee and ran his hand down the scar, checking for any gap that might need to be filled. The process took a short time but was in no way not painful. Lillie grimaced and took deep breaths the entire time.

Down by her ankle he found a spot where the thread had gone loose and began to get ready to sew.

"Isn't it better?" The voice broke the silence and almost made Smee drop the needle. He hadn't really heard the girl talk directly to him in a way that was meant to start a conversation.

"What, the wound? ''Fraid not. Well… compared to the other night I suppose. But really it just refuses to-"

"Not the wound. Getting worse. Wouldn't getting worse be better?"

Smee stopped sewing and looked up. _Better? How could getting worse be better_? "What do you mean?" He asked.

"Well, if I die now then nothing will happen to me. That's it. Game over. If I live then Captain Hook will do whatever he wants with me. I can tell it's bad. That's what it looks like at least. I can tell he's already thinking of all the ways he can kill me, after eh holds me hostage of course. So my question is, wouldn't it be better?"

Smee thought about it for a minute. She did have a point. If he had to choose death by infection or death by Hook he'd probably pick infection. "Well, I see what you mean. But how do you know that eh wants to kill you?" Again she raised her eyebrow. "Right." He chuckled "Why did I even ask?" He went back to sewing.

"Is he as bad as he seems?" Smee didn't take his eyes f his work this time.

"Not really. Well, sometimes, yes. But he has his moments."

"Like what?"

Again he paused his work to think. Then he shrugged and let out a nervous laugh. "Maybe you're right. Maybe he is as bad as he seems."

"Would you help me get away?"

And at that he stopped sewing. _Help her? Was she insane? _"Sorry, Miss. But do you know what he'll do to me if I do?"

"And do you know what will happen to me if I don't?" She had a point.

He looked at her again, this time his eyes were full of remorse. "Sorry Miss. Can't."

She sighed. "It's okay. I understand." He nodded thankfully and kept sewing. "So what do pirates do around here, when you're not shooting at us?"

"Umm… Well, we fish and boat mostly. We go down to the island every so often but we don't like to do it too much. It takes hours to prepare the sails."

"Prepare the sails?"

"Yes, miss. We need to lower them, check wind mileage. The whole process takes a while. Haven't you done it?"

"No."

"No!" He finished the last stitch and looked up at her. "Well why not?"

She shifted uncomfortably. "I've never been on water really. This is my first time. I can't… I can't swim."

"Well then," He snapped the thread. "When you can walk again we'll have to show you. He looked up at her and was surprised to see all the distrust gone. And in its place was the happiness of the child she was. Her eyes shone and he finally saw the smile that had created every line on her face. Her features glowed and all of a sudden he loved this girl. Something about her, her enthusiasm, her happiness. She was so sweet, really. It was sad that Hook had plans to kill her. And in some way e wanted to stop that. To keep her safe He in no ways loved her like true love. No. But he felt a fatherly protection over the girl and a deep responsibility for her.

This was a very new feeling for him. And it can be very hard to describe. You have to think about it like a little girl being picked on in the park. You want to help her so badly, and some of us do. It's our parental side that most of us have. The side that wants to protect those weaker. And sometimes this personality is drawn out by the characteristics of another person. Smee took one look at this girl again. Yes, she had those characteristics. The bright flashing eyes, the sweet innocent smile and the face of nothing more then a normal girl. It touched his heart. She had done nothing really wrong. No what was he saying. He couldn't think like that.

Then he stole another glance at the girl. She had started to babble excitedly again, happy to have been given the chance to do something, to be trusted with the responsibility of handling something on her own. She looked so happy. He smiled slightly. Something about her. She made you smile and just want to laugh and be as happy as she was. It was hard not to love her from the moment those glistening eyes caught yours and held onto your stare. Once she got a hold of you with her eyes, you couldn't look away. All you could do was laugh along or encourage her forward.

"Wow!" Lillie was saying excitedly. "I've never really been on a boat before!" Is this all its lie?"

"Well, it's better from the deck." He immediately regretted the statement. Her face fell and she looked a bit sad. The exited sparkle dimmed and was replaced by one of slight disappointment. He tried to quickly make up for it. "But don't worry. Once you can walk we'll go up top and I'm sure the crew will help you with all sorts of things. Fishing, fixing sails, tying ropes and knots, swimming…"

"No!"

The voice shocked him. He looked up into her terrified eyes. "Not swimming." Was all she said?

"Well, miss. We are on a boat. It's a necessity."

"I can't…"

"Which is why we'll help you." He pulled the covers away so he could check her stomach. Thankfully her dress was ripped so he didn't have to lift anything. But he was worried about how torn and bloody her clothes wore. He would have to find her new ones.

"You're not like them you know." She told him.

"What makes you say that?"

"You're nicer." She shrugged. "I thought all pirates were like Hook."

He siged. He pulled the covers back onto her, finishing his checkup. "Wait until you get to really know him, Miss. He really is not that bad. And who knows, you seem to bring out the good in people." He gave her an understanding smile and then left. But as the door closed he just barely heard her mutter,

"How will I get to know if I'm not here?"


	11. A Dangerous Kind of Friend

It had been ten minutes after Smee had left and she had not moved a muscle. Her ears were perked and she was listening for anything that would tell her that someone was even thinking of coming in. But after ten excruciatingly lone minutes of nothing but silence she gave up and decided to not waste any more valuable time.

Slowly and painfully she rose from the bed. Her legs shook under her, not used to being used after days of remaining still and unmoving. But after a minute they adjusted and she could stand up on her own. Taking her first few steps she almost fell but she kept on. Her leg was still not healed and walking on it was possible one of the worst decisions she had ever made. Oh well, she would have to deal. She walked to the other side of the bed and went through a trunk that was currently being used as a coffee table. Inside were some maps, a few books and extra sheets. Taking out the sheets she lay them on the ground and limped through the room looking everywhere for a pair of scissors. Finding none she settled for on of the swords that had been put on the wall as decoration. She tore the sheets to ribbons, slicing through them quickly until she had enough to bandage up her leg and stomach. Her ribs would have to wait.

Okay, now she was bandaged. So what was next. She had to scold herself mentally for not fully organizing the plan. Well, she was already up, she might as well just leave while she was ahead. Moving over to the desk she clambered onto the chair that was nearby and hopped up onto the solid surface. The desk wobbled a little and she moved with it, trying not to fall. But finally the legs went flat on the floor and she could look at her position.

The escape route in question was the window which, when she stood in front of it, went down to her chest. Good, she wouldn't have to pull herself up too far. Placing her arms on either side of the window she braced herself, preparing to pull up. Pain hit a bit slower then she expected, flowing through her body in quick waves only after she had her hip over the edge. She sucked in air quickly and looked over the side, and what she saw made her smile. The deck.

No swimming. The thought of that lifted her adrenaline level, her mind blocking out all pain. Then another thought came. She might still have to. If she had to jump off the ship to get away then she had to swim. Not a choice, a priority. Well, at least she could float. Sort of. But right now wasn't the time to think about that. She grabbed the side of the window and put her head farther out. She looked left, then right. No people. Good. That was perfect for a clean escape.

Slowly and quietly she lifted herself over the side and leaned as far as she could and then swung over her leg. Soon after, the other one followed and soon she was uncomfortably seated on the edge of the window. She lowered herself off a bit and then dropped. Her feet made a soft padding sound as she hit the deck. She stayed in a crouch for a moment and waited, listening for the sound of men shouting or feet coming towards her. But nothing happened. She was safe, home free, out of this place forever. She would have jumped off the plank then and there if it wasn't for the water surrounding them.

Cautiously she crept up to the side and peered over the edge. The water, a greenish blue, lapped against the red wood of the ship. Every so often mist would come up from the side and settle on her face. Small beads of liquid, both from the water below and from sweat, formed on her face. She wiped her head on her sleeve. She closed her eyes, trying to concentrate on just the sound of the water. It was almost soothing. Keeping her eyes closed she put one foot on the edge of the ship, then the other. At first she swayed and had to hold onto a nearby rope for balance. But soon she got used to the ships movements and coordinated her own to match it. It became a dance, slow and steady. The ocean kept the time with every waves crash, the ship swayed and she swayed along with it. And everything seemed to disappear. The pain, the distrust, the hurt and the fear. She became almost happy. Staying there would have been her first choice, but a sound interrupted all the others, making her snap her eyes open.

"Mr. Smee, it's been two hours. You should check on her."

Lillie almost fell of the side and onto her back. But she steadied herself with the rope. Two hours? Had it been that long? Her heart was pounding; it's pace quickening as the realization hit her. Her eyes slowly drifted down to the water. She was going to have to jump now. It didn't matter if she was ready of not. Her only choice was now, and if she took it she might have a chance.

"On second thought, I'll come with you." Those last words from hook sent shivers up her spine. Smee was already bad enough. But Captain Hook! Unlike Smee he would actually do something. She bent her knees and took a few deep breaths. She listened to the sounds around her one last time. The ocean, the creaking of the ship as it rocked and the click of a doorknob as a door was opened. Then someone shouting. Loudly.

"She's gone. Smee she's gone!"

"The window captain!"

"Blast that girl! My entire plan ruined! Oh, I'll get that girl if it's the last thing I-"

"Captain she might still be on board!"

"Then go! Smee! Go!"

Footsteps were heard pounding out. Lillie looked to her right just in time to see Smee and Captain Hook come around the corner. The Captain froze and stared at Lillie. Lillie froze and stared at the Captain. Her knees were still bent and her eyes were set in a determined stare.

"Really girl, you wouldn't jump." The Captain scoffed.

"What if it's my only ticket out?" That got him. He ran forward ready to drag her back on board and at the same instant she jumped.

The wind whistled in her ears. It seemed to sign about the fear that she felt, the feeling that everything she had just done was a big mistake. But nothing could compare to the feeling of the cold water hitting her. She was under before she had a chance to catch her breath. The water surrounded her, pulling at her arms and legs, trying to play and dance, showing her the wonders of the underwater realm. But wonders are hard to see when your drowning.

Like mermaids, water is rather stupid and slightly one sided. Some believe that mermaids are the children of the suns rays hitting the waters crashing waves. And personality wise, they wouldn't be far off. Like mermaids it believes in only its ideas and it's ways of life. It can survive without air so it believes that anyone else can to. So when a poor human girl comes into its waiting hands it believes it's found a new playmate. Someone who will keep it company on all the days it's alone. Which is many of them. It spends so much time doing nothing but crashing up on shores and beautiful beaches. Catching glimpses of humans and land people that it becomes lonely by itself. It often gets jealous of mermaids. Only a few drops from the ocean are chosen every year to become the beautiful creatures. They are allowed to interact with the world and the rest of the ocean is left alone.

But today when the human girl fell into it's waiting waves it did and extra wave to show off to its new "friend". The ocean wrapped its long fingers around her arms.

_Hello. Who are you? Have you come to stay?_

The girl did nothing but struggle, trying to fight the grasp that the ocean had on her. It became confused, swirling around her playfully.

_Why are you struggling? Aren't you here to have fun! I could show you my home! Would you like that new friend? For me to show you my home?_

It began dragging her downward toward the seaweed beds far below. The girl's struggles started to become weaker and less frantic. Her body was becoming limp. Bubbled floated from her mouth and her back slumped over.

_Good, you've stopped fighting. Now we can get to know one another. _

I Far above the ocean broke. A man came swimming down to where she was. His coat and shoes had been discarded so now only his pink ruffled shirt and black pants remained. He linked his armed around the girls, her back pressing against his chest, and he began to pull them up quickly.

_Where are you taking my friend?_ The oceans anger surged and a wave dragged him down a few inches, but he persisted on. The ocean watched him as his head finally broke the surface. It sighed and the water rippled.

_Oh well. More friends are bound to come soon._


	12. Fighting and Losing

The captains just about had it. And so has Lillie. This is jsut them both losign their patience, Hook a little more then lillie. Whatever "patience he had to begin with anyway.

* * *

The captain kicked his bare feet as hard as he could, hoping he could break the waters surface before the crocodile spotted him. Wait the crocodile! What was he doing! He never swam for fear that that _thing_ would get to him. So why was he risking his life for some little brat.

He started seeing the sky, rippled from the skin of the water. The sun shone through it's glass top sending small rays shooting this way and that, small bullet holes in an everlasting body. He swam towards them, dreaming of the present of oxygen in his lungs. Finally his body bobbed out of the water. He dragged the girl up so she could breathe as well. Her body was still limp but she was stirring. Oh she was in for it when he reached the deck.

He paddled his way over to a ladder on the side of the ship. He was just about to reach for it when something shoved him hard in the chest.

"Ow!" he said, more shocked than hurt. He looked over to the girl in his grasp. She was awake and fully aware of what was going on around her. And now she was pushing against him with surprising strength.

"Let me go!" She was shouting at him, trying to paddle away.

"Are you insane!"

"No, just let me go!"

The captain stared at her for a moment, his jaw hanging down.

"I just saved your life! A thank you would be nice!"

"You didn't save my life." She looked him strait in the eye. "You destroyed it."

And that was it. The Captain had had it. He had been patient with this girl, even if his patience wasn't ever considered that. He had saved her once from death on the island, made a pact not to kill her, saved her again from drowning and she didn't even cooperate with him. Not even a thank you! Putting up with her was almost as bad as putting up with Pan, something he would never do. And if this was bad, think how bad he would be.

He tightened his grip on her, not caring if he hurt her or scared her. He was going to teach her a lesson. No one messes with Captain James Hook!

He gripped onto the bottom rung of the ladder and pulled him self up. It was hard to do with only his hand free, but little by little he climbed up the side of the ship dragging a soaking Lillie with him. She had stopped screaming but was making his climb even more difficult by continuously squirming to get away.

"Stop moving! You scurvy brat! Were going to end up back in the water!"

Finally he reached the top of the ship. Hoisting himself over, and never once taking his arm off the girl's waist, He clambered back onto the deck. His feet clomped as he hit the ground but hers never even touched it. She was suspended off the ground by only his one arm.

"Smee! A towel, now!" Hook called. Smee rushed over with the towel. At first Lillie expected the towel to be for her, that was how things had went over the past week. But he dropped her hard onto the deck and dried off his hair and face. Tossing the towel to the side he advanced towards her. She scurried back in a crablike fashion but he had a grip on her collar even before she could escape.

"Now, you listen to me," He hissed at her menacingly. "You have been nothing but trouble for me. You had to go and get yourself hurt and I, being the gentleman that I am, saved you. And let me tell you, I'm starting to regret that decision."

Her eyes, wide with fear stared up into his. Her mouth was set in a stubborn scowl and she was trying her best not to let him see her scared.

"So, here is what is going to happen. You seem like your getting much better very quickly, so I think it's about time that I put you to work!"

"What!" Lillie was shouting right back at him now.

"You heard me! You're part of this ship and you will do as I say. I am the Captain and _I_ give the orders."

"How about you just let me go! Have you ever thought of that! If I am so much trouble why don't you just send me off? Or do me a favor and kill me already. If I'm improving so much then our contract is done, it's over, no more rules!" Her face contorted after she realized what she had said. She had, in a way, sentenced herself to death. _No no no no no! Why did I say that! Oh, God I hope he doesn't take that seriously! I don't want to die! I don't want to die!_

At the same time he realized what she had said too. He stared at her in utter disbelief because not only was she the first person to yell at him but also she was right. Their contract was up! She was able to move around, granted she wasn't fully healed. He took out the document he had kept tucked in his inside coat pocket. In his scrawled handwriting it still said,

_I, Captain James Hook, here by swear not to harm Miss Lillie until she is at a state to defend her self._

He looked up again. Yes, she certainly could defend her self. A slow smile spread across his face. He tucked the contract back into its pocket and slowly brandished his sword. The steel twinkled in the sunlight and the reflecting rays bounced off and hit her face and small white beads of light appeared, shivering as the sword moved in his grasp. He walked towards her and she stayed still. She was too scared to move, he realized. Good, this will allow my point to be made even faster.

He quickly shortened the distance between them and when he reached her he grabbed her hair and tilted her head back. And then Lillie woke up. Before all she had been was a deer at arrow point. But now the true Lillie was coming through. She saw the knife's blade so close to her and she did what any person would do. She tried to run. But he had her hair in such a hold that she couldn't move. She did manage to almost slip away but was promptly pushed into one of the mast poles. Her breathing became ragged and scared and her eyes widened. She saw the blade come towards her and felt its cold edge touch her throat. She stopped breathing and her eyes closed and she waited, waited for the sharp edge to cut through her delicate skin and spill her blood. Ready to open her eyes and look at an ocean of red. Ready to stop breathing and smelling and seeing and doing. Ready to die.

But the slash never came. She opened one eye to look at the captain. His glare was steely and serious. It was shouting at her things like _yes, I would kill you. Dot doubt it._ And her own large frightened eyes seemed to respond, _I don't._

"You are my hostage, understand?"

She blinked, unsettled by the tone of his voice along with the knife at her throat.

"Understand?" He pressed on, allowing the blade to push harder onto her skin. She didn't want to nod so as to avoid injury, but she did look him in the eye and say in a small voice, "yes."

The sword was removed from her skin and she sank to her knees, clutching her neck and shivering. Never before had he threatened her like that! She looked up at him again. His concentration had gone from her to his sward, which at the moment he was examining, testing its sharpness. From experience she knew it was sharp enough. He looked down at her again. "Now, I'm going to keep my… deal. Just a moment ago you couldn't defend yourself. So you're still safe. However, you're stronger, so working on my ship is what you'll be doing for the remainder of your time here."

_Don't you mean the remainder of my short life?_ She thought. But she kept her thoughts to herself.

Until then you will be my prisoner and hostage. And prisoners don't live in luxury. And yes, my bed counts as a luxury."

"So where will I be?" Lillie spit out, a bit of her old self coming back.

"I did mention you were a prisoner, did I not?" He looked over his shoulder and whistled. Two large pirates came and took one of Lilies arms each, restraining her. "Smee," hook said, then he looked smugly back at Lillie. "Prepare a cell for our little guest."


	13. A Mirror and a Mother

Sorry it's short.

* * *

Lillie had never known how bug the inside of the ship really was. But she got the entire tour while she was escorted to her "cage". The first floor had been the deck and below that, down a small flight of stairs, there was a whole other floor. They were moving quickly and the items that crowded the room seemed to wiz past. Bust not fast enough for her to spot a few hammocks and some bunk beds. This must be the sleeping quarters. As soon as she thought that she felt a small tug at her brain and an image sprang out into her mind. A dusty little room with roots coming out of the walls and a continuous shower of dust and dirt from the ceiling. It had been dark and dusty and dirty and cold and hot and everything else that was the exact opposite of comfortable. But it had been home. And the bed in the small room had been her bed. Everything there had been familiar and perfect. She had hated it most of the time but now she wanted to be their more than ever. At least it had been somewhere she knew. Now she was stuck in a place she didn't know at all.

They went farther down, deeper and deeper into the belly of the ship. The next floor had been a kitchen. Simple and practical with nothing but a manual stove and pots hanging everywhere. On the next floor down they reached a cellar of sorts. Large shelves lined the walls and different herbs and dried vegetables hung from the ceiling. Barrels full of, what she presumed to be, beer or some sort of alcohol sloshed around as the ship rocked. As they continued on Lillie realized just how dark it had gotten. Compared to the light outside from the afternoon sun it was almost night in the lower parts of the ship. Small cracks allowed some light to come through and little oil lanterns hung from various spots, but besides that there was nothing else. They finally reached a small door, the only other door on the ship besides the one for the Captains quarters.

One of the pirates, the burlier one with a thick beard that looked like it hadn't been washed in months, snapped his fingers repeatedly. The one on her right gave her arm a tight squeeze, silently telling her to not try anything while he was away. She understood and gave him a little nod and he let her go. She watched him move to one of the walls around them and grab a small lantern off it's peg. Walking back over he turned up the amount of oil put into the lams. The fire startled, rising up with a flourish of color and then settled, brighter then before but still dim. The pirate with the beard who still stood to her left opened to door and led them down into almost complete darkness.

With ought the lamp Lillie could make out shapes around her. Tables, pegs to hold keys and bars. Long, thick rusty bars. The pirate holding the lamp came forward and grabbed a key off the now visible peg. He unlocked the smallest cell, there were only two in the room, and the two off them together shoved her in. She fell to the ground with a squeak of both fright and pain as her legs hit the hard bottom. She turned to see the pirates going back up the stairs and leaving her alone in the dark.

A door slammed from above somewhere. Lillie blinked a few times, letting her eyes familiarize themselves with the low light in the room. If there was any. She stood up shakily, her hands stretched out in front of her searching for anything to hold onto. She slid carefully across the wooded floorboards. The bottom of the ship was rough from salt and the amount of people that wore down the floor. She picked up her feet to avoid splinters and stepped across the room, hands still stretched out in front.

The first things she hit were the bars. They were rusty and flaked off in her fingers. She followed them, allowing herself to sidestep until her hip hit something hard.

"Ow." She mumbled rubbing her side. She ran her fingers in front of the hard object, finally realizing that it was a bed. A wooden board suspended against the wall of her cell. She sat down on it and then lay down, stretching her feet out. This was going to be a very long day.

Captain Hook cracked his knuckles and then stretched out his fingers on his hand. This was gong to be a long day. Not only did he have to deal with the girl but now he had to deal with the stubborn girl. When she was sick she had been annoying. Now that she was better, well, she was really annoying.

Her attitude did remind him of someone else though. He screwed up his face, thinking about the wide array of people he knew, then the corners of his mouth twitched as a small thoughtful smile appeared. That's right. She reminded him of him self. Stubborn, stealthy and smart. He chuckled. You never know how annoying you are until you look in a mirror, he thought. And she was his mirror.

"Captain!" Smee's nasally voice broke his train of thought.

"What is it Smee?"

"We have her in a cell, do you want to go see her?"

"Not just yet. Let's leave her there for a bit. Then maybe later we can bring her food and drink."

"Yes Captain." Smee turned to leave but then slowed his steps and swivled slowly back to face the captain again. "Um… Captain."

"What is it now Mr. Smee?"

"I was just wondering… what are you going to do with her?"

The captain stopped to think. That was a good question. What was he going to do with her? "Well, I was thinking that first I would put her to work. If we work her hard enough, maybe we'll break her. Then she'll just become a small pitiful girl who will be easy to control. And after I've done that I think I'll give the crew, along with myself, something we've always wanted."

"Which would be-"


	14. Hello, Love

"Which would be?"

"A mother Smee. A mother."

Smee widened his eyes and a happy grin stretched across his face. And as suddenly as it had come, his joy vanished. His brow furrowed and his eyebrows pinched together. "She is rather young isn't she, Captain?" He asked slowly, thinking it all over in his head.

Hook let out an indignant huff and crossed his arms as a sort of pride shield. "Well, Mr. Smee," he spat out. "Wendy was also very young. And you seemed fine with that. In fact, I do recall that when she was involved you rather liked the idea of a mother."

"Oh no, no, no sir!" Smee was getting nervous now, shaking his hands in front of him as a desperate 'no' gesture just to keep himself off the captains bad side. "I still welcome the idea. I really never had a mother. Well, I'm sure I did at one time. But on Neverland," he swept his arm to show the stretch of the island in the distance. "On Neverland… you forget." The last part was said in a softer voice, a sadder tone etched with longing as Smee felt the loss of never knowing his mother, or even a mother.

Hooks eyes darkened. Not in anger, but concentration. He too tried to retrieve the long forgotten memories of someone he knew **must **have loved him once. He saw Smee looking at him and his search stopped. He popped back up and glared at the older man, cooling the air around them with his icy stare. "So you're taking her side now Mr. Smee." He said it coolly with a hint f poison oozing from every syllable.

"N-no C-Captain. I-I-I j-just… I just." He looked for the right words, anything to save him from Hook's obvious wrath. But he finally gave up. Slouching his shoulders, his whole posture and spirit drooped. "Never mind Captain." He said quietly, regretful he couldn't help the girl he had become so fond with in only a days time. "A mother it is."

"That's what I thought." Hook turned, swirling the long length of his coat as he did, and walked away. There was a bounce in his step as he thought that not only had he gotten a mother for him and the crew, but also after a week he would finally be able to sleep in his own bed.

o 0 o

Lillie woke up because the "bed" had been vibrating. She woke up with a start, ideas of storms and attacks in her mind. Then she looked down at the silhouette that was her body in the dark and realized it was she. In only her light-sleeping gown shredded by her attacker the freezing air had no shield to prevent it from attacking her.

She sat up, rubbing her arms to try and remove the clinging chill. It was so dark and so cold. All of a sudden, in that moment, she felt alone. Neglected and alone and frightened. She looked around, trying desperately to see if she could cut through the dark and spot something that would look even the slightest bit familiar. Even a table would calm her nerves at this point. But the dark hung thick, making it almost impossible to see. The only things she had now were the shadows and the word that repeated itself over and over in her brain.

_Alone. Alone. Alone._

Curling her knees to her chest she hugged them tightly, trying carefully not to hurt herself as she did. Te pain came anyway from her leg, her stomach and ribs. They were probably infected. _Oh well_, she thought. _It couldn't be any worse_. She took her mind off the pain by concentrating on the cold and the constant creak of the bobbing ship.

**No one.**

Her eyes shot open and she looked around. Fear coursing through her veins. It was bringing it back. It was bringing _her _back. All of the memories she had tried so hard to push into the farthest corners of her brain, tried so hard to forget, started to creep back, flashing images quickly past her eyes. The darkness became thicker, strangling her. The cold, the pain, the neglect, the fear, the darkness, the hurt. They were all combining, pulling back into her mind the sadness and the fear.

**No one. Not even me.**

There it was again. That oh so familiar voice that sounded like frost and icicles and hate. Lillie blinked and then stared in horror. A squeak came out of her throat and she pushed herself as much as she could against the wall. The woman standing in front of her smiled in amusement.

**Hello again, Love.**

She looked a little like Lillie. Her hair was the same deep brown, longer but similar. Her eyes were the same dark chocolate and golden sheen. Unlike Lillie she was tall and stick thin. Her legs and arms were sharp and her face was defined too much, giving her edges instead of curves. If you looked at her long enough she looked like a tall, poisonous spider. She glowed slightly, but the glow never left her and didn't illuminate the room. She was just a single flicker in pitch black. Lighting nothing but her self.

**I told you didn't I? No one would ever love you. Your father, this man and now me. We all hate you. Everything you do is wrong. You're a disgrace. So vulnerable. So easy to hurt. So easy to hate.**

"That's not true."

The Spider Woman smirked, narrowing her eyes. **It is true. Look around you. You're back at square one. This was destined to happen you know. I mean, I did leave you just like this so many times. Do you remember all those times? Do you, Love?**

Her accent was Jersey. Thick and venomous. Lillie never had had an accent and was very thankful for it, never having the ability to sound as cruel as the Spider Woman did on a daily basis.

The Spider Woman stared at Lillie, her eyes searching inside of her very soul searching for any sign of breaking in her. She frowned, then leaned on the bars, a new strategy in mind.

**Hey, Love. Remember the basement?**

Lillie's eyes grew larger and then she closed them. Pounding her head with both fists she tried to force all the memories from flooding back to her brain and out her eyes in wet salty tears. "It's okay," she hissed to herself. "It's okay. It's over. None of this is real."

The Spider Woman smirked again as she leaned against the bars once more. She had hit the weak point. Her Achilles heal had been stabbed.

**Oh, so you do remember the basement.**

"It's not real, it's not real."

**Then I'm sure you remember all those days locked there, alone, frightened.**

"It's okay, it's okay."

**Honestly, I still wonder how you survived all those days without food and water.**

"It's over now. It's okay."

The Spider Woman straitened up, keeping her fingers wound around the rusty bars. **No, Love. It's not okay. Wana know how I know? You're down here. You're stuck. And not only that, but you're hurt. Very hurt. I never even left that kind of mark on you. And, Love, you're sick.**

"I'm not sick." Lillie looked up, her fists still on her head as she addressed the Spider Woman for the first time.

**Yes you are. You're shivering.**

"It's cold down here. I'm in a ship, deep down, with hardly anything on, under water." She thought for a minute then gasped quietly. "I'm under water." She repeated to herself.

**Still have that fear of water, do you? Must be another reason you're sick.**

Lillie stopped her rambling long enough to look up at the Spider Woman.

"I told you, I'm not sick."

The Spider Woman sighed, feigning annoyance. **Do we have to have to discuss this again? Yes, you're sick. You're shivering. You're face is flushed. And you're imagining me, something you would never do. **She stopped and scrunched up her face, thinking incredibly hard. **Or maybe you aren't sick. This whole thing. This exiting capture you got your self into, **Lillie glared at her for that, **it's just bringing back all of you're memories isn't it? **Lillie looked down to avoid eye contact with the Spider Woman.

The Spider Woman looked around at her. **From the looks of it, this is much worse then anything I did. I just locked you up. And a few hits here and there. Yes, that's all I did.**

"No!" The Spider Woman snapped around her head in surprise as the teen yelled at her. "No, you did everything. Everything was wrong. You never paid attention to me. And when you did it, it was with hate! You couldn't stand the idea of who I was. And so you blocked it all out. All of it. I was just a disappointment. I was an outsider. And ever day you let me know that in any way you could." Her voice had gone from shouting to screaming and during her rand she had slowly gotten up. Now she was standing as tall as she could without hurting herself, her arms by her sides.

The Spider Woman stared at Lillie as she continued talking, her mouth was slightly open and her face was set in stone, shocked that the girl who five minutes ago was cowering was now fighting like her life depended on it.

"I hated every day with you. It was the worst years of my life. And do you want to know what made it even worse. What made it even worse was…" she looked down and her voice dropped. "Was the I loved you. I loved you so much. And every day I asked why someone I love would do something like that to me." She stared at her sadly then got some of her old strength back, saying indignantly, "At least here I'm not attached to him. At least when he locks me up in the basement with nothing, I could care less."

The Spider Woman continued to stare silently. Her fingers tapped the rusty bars and bits of the crusty red dust flittered to the ground. Then she opened her mouth… and laughed. At first it was small, just chuckles, but by the end she was giggling. Maniacally, crazily giggling.

Lillie stared at her. Was she laughing? Why?

Then, in one instant, the Spider Woman dropped her hands from the bars and lunged at Lillie. Lillie shrieked quietly and stumbled backwards before being pushed hard against the wall. The Spider Woman's long pointed fingers dug into her flesh and her breath was cold and smelled like spider webs and mothballs. The Spider Woman giggle was smaller now, and Lillie heard it clearly as she leaned closer to whisper in her ear.

**He's going to kill you, Love, **she said between giggles.** You're gonna be dead.**

And then she was gone.

Lillie stayed against the wall, shocked, not moving and then slid down slowly. Her breath caught in her chest and she finally let the hot tears flow.

_He's_ _going to kill you, Love. You're gonna be dead._

Her voice still rang clear in her mind. Lillie let out one last strangled sob. ""I know mother. I know." And then, exhausted, she let sleep take over.


	15. The Human Web

Okay, so if anyone is confused about the whole human web thing, let me just sum it up. Seh's stuck and she is confusing wants and needs. She is stuck in the human web because she is gongn slightly crazy from three days in a dark space with no sun or anything. That's it. Easy to understand now right? And if anyone has any idea of pirate jobs please tel me. i don treally know pirates to well and only have about three ideas. Oh, adn Peter Pan doesnt belong to me. I wish though. *Sigh* I wish.

* * *

So many things are healthy for us as humans. And sometimes even if something is said to be healthy it's not needed. Some say humans need meat but obviously as we see with vegetarians that is not true. Some say humans need money. But we as humans have seen people live perfectly happy lives with out money. We humans are silly that way. We have no sense of connection. We expect that need and want are connected. They want all humans to need meat when in truth humans don't need it at all. We spin our own webs and in time get tangled in them.

This is so easy to do because the human web is such a strong complicated thing. Once started it never stops, growing and growing even if the one who spun the beginning is stuck in the bottom, trapped in their own mess of string and lies. THE webs are created from the suffering of mankind. The lies and the screams and the anger and the hate. They all come together and, with careful delicate stitches, weave themselves together making threads made of flexible steel. These strings are thick and wide, and while they might start off small they form a gigantic chord that holds fast together, unable to be cut by blade or time. And the worst part is, we don't see them. We as humans are so blind to see our own faults, scared to see how thick we have made the web grow and scared to see what has gotten caught in it. Innocence, love, dreams. So like all humans we do what is natural. We block out what we need to see and see what we want to see. That's how the connection of want and need was first made, you know. Because we didn't feel that we needed to see our faults. We saw what we wanted to and in time want took over and need became want in human's minds. But really need was tangled up tightly, suffocating in the human web.

Right now Lillie was stuck in that web. Her mind was unclear and dim. She was confused with so many things, but mostly want and need. She new that she could live her life in this dark room. She was sure they would supply her with the essentials needed ot live. But she wanted to see the sun so badly. Wanted to taste the air, drink the sky and reach up her fingers to the heavens. That was what she used to do every day. She was sure that today was a nice day outside. On a day like that, blue sky, clear air, calm wind, she would stand up on her toes, close her eyes and reach up as far as she could. And if she tried hard enough she swore she could feel her fingertips touch the sugar candy white clouds grazing her fingers with their kisses. She knew that today would be another day of wanting. She knew that that was all she had, wanting. But her mind was screaming need.

She might not need the outdoors, but her sanity did.

Walking to the end of her cell, she placed her face of the wall. She could hear the gurgling of the ocean next to her ear. It's guttural sounds swirling and churning loudly, creating syllables, vowels, and words.

_Hello there friend. Come to me again. I'm lonely._

Lillie drew back and positioned herself against the bars instead. It wasn't as comfortable, but at least she didn't have to be near the water. She slid down, feeling the rust cling to her nightshirt as she did. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, feeding herself with the air. She had been down here for two days and had gone with out food and water for three. She was cold and fatigue was kicking in. Her head hurt from fever and her night shirt was even more ripped then before leaving her colder. She had had to rip off small pieces when her scare had reopened in small places. She couldn't see the blood, but she had felt it on her fingers. There must have been puddles of it on the floor from her leg and stomach. Her ribs had healed a considerable amount and were now annoyances, feeling like nothing more then bruises. It hurt a little, but it wasn't unbearable and she could deal with it.

She stayed down on the floor unmoving for quite some time. Until she heard a creak from above her. A glow illuminated the stairwell and got closer. And as it got closer it got brighter. It was a faint green yellow color created from a dim oil lamp. The atmosphere seemed more aggressive and mean with it near, but it was light and she was thankful for it. She looked down, seeing herself as a human and not a shadow for the first time in days. Blood covered her wounds and bruises where she had bumped into so many things covered her arms and legs. The place where the Spider Woman had gripped her on the arm though showed no mark. _It was a dream_. She reminded herself. _Dreams don't leave physical marks._ Strangely enough she could feel it though. She could feel the place on her wrist where the Spider Woman's nails had dug into her flesh, longing to make her suffer, wanting to make her bleed.

Lillie shook her mind of the thoughts at the present moment and instead focused on the shoes. Fancy dress shoes were slowly oozing down the stairs as if they had pride of their own. She wasn't far off. The owner off the shoes must have given them some, having so much of it to spare.

"Good morning my dear. Sleep well?" Captain Hooks voice rang with sarcasm as he finished his walk down the stairs and made it to the bars of her cage. She saw his eyes drift over her wounded body and for a moment she swore he saw him cringe. But his makeup for it, if he even had one, was so fast she couldn't really see if he had held that feeling in his eyes. If he had looked disturbed. If he had looked lie he… cared.

"Well, I just came to retrieve you. Today's a big day you know." He said, once again, sarcastically.

Even though she knew he would probably kill her when she got up there her eyes sparkled with anticipation at the thought of being outside. He must have seen the look on her face because he said quickly,

"Don't worry, as soon as the day is over you'll be back in your room." he hit the metal bars for effect. That made her face fall. _Good_ he thought.

"So, what kind of work does his majesty want me to do?" She sneered back, adding in just as much sarcasm. This was becoming a battle.

"Oh, just some pirate work. And then we move onto more appropriate jobs."

"Appropriate jobs?"

"Miss Lillie, I have a deal to offer you. As you have witnessed you are obviously not leaving this ship. I saw you lack of swimming skills and am going to use that to my full advantage. You will be given no longboat privileges, no sailing boat privileges, no floatation device privileges, no-"

"I get it. I can't have my floaties."

"Precisely. You have no way off except by me-"

"And I'm guessing that's not going to happen right."

"Stop interrupting! But yes, you are correct. That won't happen. You have no way off except to die. Btu I have decided to let you live on-."

"This is a condition thing isn't it?

He glared at her for having interrupted once again. And when he spoke next, he spoke through his teeth. "Yes, Miss Lillie. So the condition is, for you to live you must stay here and be our mother."

At that she sprang up. "What. That's ridiculous. I decline. I refuse! I would rather die then do that."

"And believe me when I say I would happily watch you. But the offer stands open. You have thirty seconds to decide."

She hung her head, defeat written all over her. "When do I start?" She mumbled

The Captains sneer was one of triumph. "Ah, there's a good girl. You start right away. First we work on pirating skills. You will be working along side the crew. Tomorrow you start mother training. It will be rather simple actually. I will observe you completing the tasks I assign that will be essential for you to know. Then, once I know you are set to do everything on your own I will present you to the crew as our new mother. Until then you are a prisoner and nothing more. The crew isn't to find out until I say the news. Understand."

"Sure."

"And that's another thing. I am to be referred to as Captain Hook, Captain or Sir. Understand?"

"Yes Sir." She spit out the sir but he accepted it nonetheless. And as he turned to retrieve the keys the mumbled "Codfish."

He spun around. "What was that?" His face had gone from its regular tan to a beet red in a matter of seconds. Record time actually, she noted proudly.

"Nothing, Sir."

He stared at her, trying to decide whether to take that as a good response or to cut her throat. _Mother. _He told himself. _Don't kill the new mother. Patience._

"I will ignore that comment this time," he sniffed. He unlocked the cell and threw in a dress.

"What's this?"

"It's clothing. Have you ever seen it before?"

"No I mean where did it come from?"

"Wendy left it on the island when she was here. Peter didn't quite know what to do with it so he just left it on the beach in case I might need it."

"What, so you could play dress up?"

He ignored her. "It should fit you, so put it on and then meet me on the deck."

"There's no way it will fit me. Wendy was three inches taller then me."

"Just do it Miss Lillie. Or do I have to give you an early demonstration of what consequences I use on crew members who talk back to me?"

There was a long silence. She was the first to break it. Her voice wasn't shaky but it had pride in it. And behind the pride, defeat. "No, Sir."

"I didn't think so." He turned and left with ought another word leaving the door to her cell unlocked and the lamp on the table, illuminating the room. She looked down at the dress in her hands. Then at the stairs. "Well," she told herself, preparing to get dressed and start the day. "I've heard of ten mothers before. But this is ridiculous!"


	16. Racing Time

**I decided to try something totally different and totally unorthodox. I am going to do very short "flash forwards" every so often. Ones that will never give any real information and will be to short to guess. But at the end they will all come together to make sense. So, here is the first one.**

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Flash Forward

He was running. He had never actually run this fast before. The last time he had run this fast was to chase his enemy. But right now, he wasn't chasing an enemy. He was racing one. If his race was against something inanimate. And if his enemy was time.


	17. Tying Knots and Making Friends

Just a chapter showing her charismatic side workign again. Seh just has the natural charm to make anyone love her. her enthusiasm and exitement over even the smallest of things sort of draws people in. And in this chapter it charms event the burliest of the crew.

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"The second star to the right and strait on 'till morning!" That is the location of Neverland. But what about the second star to the left? Everyone wonders and wonders whether or not it is another world or another universe all together.

Actually the second star to the left, although it may be just a star to people on earth, is in fact Neverland's sun. It hangs close to the surface and is smaller then a normal sun. It does everything a normal sun should do, like warm the land and set and rise. But instead of going around the whole island like the earths sun, this sun must always stay to the left, never venturing to the right. It seems strange, but that is just the way it is. So instead it moves over the island until it is completely over it and then it moves back, following the same path it came. And finally, at the end of the day, it sets for good, allowing the moon, a dull star, to take its place.

During the hours of het day, though, the Neverlanders like to spend as much time in the sun as humanly possible. They live on the sun, using its light for energy and warmth and sometimes happiness. They soak in its golden rays, drinking the light that sparks down in hard sharp blades. It is everything to them. And after three days, three agonizingly long days, of being in the darkness and cold Lillie could not have been happier with the thought of that glorious sun in her face once again. She sprinted from the prison stairs up to the cellar, not even bothering to look for food or drink, something she had been deprived of for such a long time. She sprinted up the kitchen stairs and up the pirates sleeping quarters stairs and all the way up to the door witch would lead her outside. Pausing for a moment she thought about whether or not that going out there was such a great idea. Sure, the sun was calling her. Sure she was cold and ready to feel its heat. But what about the people on the deck. Peter wasn't there to pick her up so they could fly over the vast length of water. She was on her own with a large group of pirates. And to be truthful, she was scared. Very scared.

She placed her hand on the door handle and ran her fingers along the cool medal. She could try again to leave. He would never see it coming. But what if she got caught again. Risking drowning was not worth risking her life to some moody pirate. So, with her head high and her spirits incredibly low she pushed open the door. The hinges creaked as the wooden door swung open. And once again she was in the light of the sun.

She had to squint, blinded by the ferocity of its rays. It was so warm and bright, a complete contrast to her cell. She walked over to the edge of the ship and leaned against the railing. Far off in the distance, surrounded by the shivering, glittering waves was her island. Her home. Her heart sunk at the thought. Bt it wasn't as if Peter actually cared. And that thought alone brought her heart down deeper. She knew he wouldn't care. Why would he. When Wendy had almost died he had just laughed. If she disappeared he would do the same, assuming that she had just been playing a game of something of the sorts. Never in a million years would he imagine her caught on a pirate ship. But it's not like he would figure it out. He would just ignore it and then after a few weeks he might start to look for her. Might. She knew he loved her. She could clearly see that the lost boys and Peter viewed her as a very close sister. But they were little kids. And little kids have no cares in the world. Even when she thought, like for this situation, they should.

"Well, look who decided to join us." Her shoulders tensed and she closed her eyes. Fabulous, what could make this day any worse? She turned slowly to see the longhaired, red clad, hook handed captain. He was sneering like he did so often now a day and his eyes gleamed maliciously. Ready for your first job as my hostage?"

She smiled sweetly at him. "Of course. What would you like me to do first? Swab the deck or kill myself." She saw a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. Good.

"You can swab the deck later. And the killing, why don't you leave that to a professional." This time it was her turn to wince. "Your first job will be rope tying. I will have you observed refrained by a few of my men." He pointed to the end of a ship where three very tough, very strong and very mean looking men stood. They all glared at her, obviously remembering her from other occasions where she had robbed them blind. For the first time ever she felt like that may have been a mistake to do. Well, it was to late now.

"Alright. Well, you have fun now you scurvy brat. I'll be back for you at sunset to put you back in your cell." And he walked off. She stared at him as he left, then turned her head slowly to look at the other pirates. They were still glaring at her, but this time they were moving towards her, fast. She didn't move, couldn't move. So she just stayed there. They circled her, three large hawks against her, the mouse. She gulped.

"So," the burliest of them said. "We are sposed to be teachin you bout rope tyin, are we?"

"I guess." She managed to squeak out.

"Well then, here you go." The pirate with the red bandana threw some rope in her face. She caught it and stared at it cluelesly. What was she supposed to do with this?

"Well lass, Id hurry it up if I was you. Capin don't like us not to finish out work. Gets awful mad he does."

Lillie stared at him. It was clear that none of them would help her. And why should they. She had done so much to them over the years. She couldn't just expect them to cater to her every need. So instead she just nodded and turned to walk away and figure out knots in private. She could still here the snickers as she left.

One hour later…

Lillie threw down the rope. This was impossible. She had tried everything and yet not even the simplest of knots would stay. She had tried to copy the burly pirates moves from a far. But she cold barely even see what he was doing.

Finally, after another ten minutes of squinting and failing she slowly crept over to where the pirates were. They were sitting in a circle on some barrels tying away. Already they had finished every one of the ropes and now were just showing off all the other knots they knew on small pieces of rope. She picked one of the discarded pieces up and examined it closely. She wasn't sure if it was possible, but the knot took her breath away. It had so many loops and curves and each piece fell in perfectly with the other. It was a puzzle a maze and the hardest questions all in a piece of hemp rope. She held it up. It was art was what it was. There was no denying it.

"Hey! Whatch ya doin here?"

She dropped the rope and turned only to see that she was face to face with the burly pirate.

"I'm sorry, really. It's just that…" She picked up the rope and showed it tentatively, afraid he might try to cut her arm off if she extended it to far. "This knot is beautiful." She muttered. The pirates hard cruel face seemed to shift to one of amazement

"Really. You think its good?"

She nodded.

His face softened. "Well, thank ya Miss. No ones ever really appreciated my art form before."

"Could you… teach me?"

"Teach? Ya? Well…" He looked like he was contemplating his answer, but even the other two pirates could see the joy in his eyes. "I guess it would be okay."

At that Lillie snapped up. "Really!" her voice was bubbling with enthusiasm as the child she was finally came out. She was babbling on and on about how she had never before had even tied a shoelace, whatever that was. And how when she was with Peter no real skills were required. The pirate listened, dumbfounded by the amount of enthusiasm this one girl had. Then he smiled and chuckled. It wasn't that bad really. Sort of cute actually. And the way she was so exited about the smallest things. It made her almost… likable. Or even –dare he say it- loveable. So after another chuckle and a fond look at her happy face he pulled her over to one of the barrels, introduced her once again to the other pirates and then began to teach her how to tie knots.


	18. Loud Voices and Accomplishments

**Wow it's been a while! Dotn worry I haven't stopped the story! Just had the largest writers block yet. If anyone has ANY suggestions on what they would like to see happen between Hook and Lillie feel free to speak your mind! I need fresh meat!**

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Hook smiled contentedly. He had left Lillie with the pirates all day and he was positive that she had been broken. No one lasts an hour with the pirates he left her with. They were harsh and bloodthirsty, the best in his crew. Possibly the best anywhere. And all the new recruits trained with them, because at the end of the day they were so battered and worthless they would do anything he said.

He turned the corner to see the crying little girl, scared and small and ready to give up. What he did see was nothing that he would have expected.

o 0 o

"Okay, so around the house and through the window?"

"No, but close. Through the window and around the house."

Lillie sat on the barrel practicing every knot thrown at her. And the three tough pirates, especially the burliest of them, sat there patiently waiting for her mind to take in all the information. And whenever her face lit up something about them changed. They dropped a little bit more of their mean façade and looked at her with a gentler stare. They seemed to forget what she had done to them all that time and looked at her differently.

"Okay so, its through the window, around the house and then…" she screwed up her eyes in deep thought. The three pirates leaned closer, making the simple task of tying a knot suspenseful. "Through the door?" she said with uncertainty. And the three pirates stared, then smiled, and then clapped. They gave her applause that she had never gotten over something so simple. She smiled widely and blushed. "Oh stop it."

"Ya' are a fast learner, aren't ya?" the burly pirate joked.

"It's a good skill to learn quickly, 'specially on a ship." The red bandana pirate added.

"S'true." Commented the pirate with the blue and white striped shirt pirate.

Lillie looked at them as they continued with their own knots. She didn't want to continuously call them after traits they possessed. She turned her attention to the butly one, who was at the moment deep in concentration and humming some sort of pirate song.

"Who are you?"

"Huh… What!"

"What's your name?"

"Oh… well, it's Bill, Miss."

She turned to the red bandana pirate. "Shamus." he said. She had never noticed his Irish accent before, but sure enough after he said his name, the slight gruffness in hi svoice carried the Irish tone to her ears. And then she looked at the one with the blue and white shirt. She pointed one finger at him. He cleared his throat.

"I'm Sam." She smiled.

"And you are?" Asked Bill.

"It's Lillie."

"Ah. S'pretty name it is. Lillie." She blushed.

"Bill isn't to bad either!" she replied giggling. He smiled. Her laugh was nice, even for a lost boy, well girl.

"What in Davy Jones Locker is going on here?" All four people snapped their heads around and the three pirates stood quickly to attention. Lillie stayed sitting with an annoyed look on her face. The captain strode over to the three pirates, ignoring her completely. "When I give an order to make her time on this ship as miserable as possible, I expect that order to be followed." There was enough venom in his voice to kill ten men, and the three standing in front of him must have sensed it. Their backs became rigid and they looked scared. He finally turned his attention to the girl who had done nothing to even try and looked scared. Unlike the crew members near her, her back was strait and her face held a glow that only extreme pride can create. Her mouth was set and her expression was stagnate. Her arms were set by her sides and she looked ready to fight him no matter what.

"You! What did you do! I expect you to be broken and scared and all you can do is stand there and look so smug!"

"Well I'm sorry I couldn't die properly for you. I'll make sure to try next time."

His face was red with anger. "Oh, we'll see where that attitude goes when you spend tomorrow in the brig! Just be grateful you aren't relieving lashes for this one."

"Why should I get any sort of punishment for this. I did absolutely NOTHING WRONG! In fact, I did just what you wanted me to."

"OH AND WHAT WAS THAT!"

"I TIED A DARN KNOT YOU STUPID PIRATE!"

"BUT MY PLAN WAS FOR YOU TO DIE!"

She faltered for a minute. "WOW! THAT WAS YOUR PLAN. I COULDN'T TELL! AFTER ALL OF THE OTHER TIMES YOU JUST HAPPENED TO ACCIDENTALLY KILL ME ON PURPOSE! YOU ARE JUST SO CONSPICUOS!"

"THAT'S IT. GO TO YOUR CELL!"

"HAPPY TO!" And with that she threw down the rope and stormed down the steps to her confines, letting out one last scream of anger while she raced down the stairs. The captains stood there staring at the stairs in complete anger. Then he turned to see not four, but all of the pirates staring at him in shock. He had had a fight with a young girl and in some ways had lost. He suddenly felt weak and embarrassed. To avoid anyone from knowing he did what he always did. He yelled a lot.

"WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT YOU DOGS? BACK TO WORK!"

Within a few seconds the deck was bustling again with crew members lifting cells and cleaning canons. The captain stood there for a few minutes, trying to find anything wrong going on that he could yell at. Finally, finding nothing, he walked back to his cabin. He needed kill something. So for now a pillow might have to do. At least until the girl would at last become useless. Oh that would be the day.


	19. Flowers On the Mind

Flash Forward

Steel hit steel, noises of shouts and tortured cries rang through the trees and the color of rage and pain illuminated the trees, settling thick and making it hard to think, to see, to breathe. He fought his hardest. He lashed out with his sword, rage in his eyes. This was his first real war. He should enjoy it, enjoy the idea of killing, the idea of winning. To finish of his opponent, to finish what eh had started. But all of that was hard to do with flowers on the mind.


	20. The Circle

**The Circle is something I plan to incorperate in my story later on. So in this chapter it just introduces The Circle and Lillie's first job. Cleaning. Ugg! We all HATE that I'm sure. I can't tell you what the next job will be, but believe me when I say that it will be good.**

**Alrighty then, I wont talk anymore. So I can let you read! Hasta la vista! And enjoy the new chapter!**

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The next day came faster then Lillie had expected. The sun balanced perfectly on the flat tabletop of ocean and made it's way through the small cracks on the ceiling. Not much light was exposed, but enough to create delicate spider webs on the walls, revealing the chipped but sturdy wood of her compartment.

On days like these Lillie would have been the first to rise. She was an early bird, always had been. Whenever Peter had asked her why she would simply say, "I just don't want to miss a moment of anything." Right now she wanted to miss all of it. On days like these she would have been half asleep but woken her self, and the other lost boys, to the smell of pines drifting in through the door she would open. Their aroma, delicate and lingering, always seemed to course through her, allowing her veins to move and her blood to boil with the fire she was known to posses in her.

She would inhale deeply and then walk outside. She could still picture the forest at that time. The trees, all pine, held their spindly needles in her direction, hands with sharp fingers all reaching to her, trying to touch her arms and hair. Sometimes she would let them, brushing past them and allowing her short shoulder length hair to be connected with their touch for only a moment, allowing the strands to move through the grip but fast enough so the grip wouldn't tighten. But usually she teased them; rushing past and just allowing the wind form her movement to brush them making them quiver.

Then she would walk to The Circle. She had discovered The Circle on her own while on one of her morning walks. It was desolate, alone in the forest of closely connected trees. A small patch of nothing, just fallen leaves. The trees that created the circle connected their branches, a canopy created from a friendly huddle. It was as if they were all sharing a secret, but she had found a way to intervene, to wind her way through to the middle. The smell in that particular place was overpowering. So sweet it sent shivers running up and down her spine at each inhale. And the light was immaculate, perfect in every way. It snuck in through the spots where the huddle of trees could not cover. So when she looked down onto the carpet of needles she swore she was standing on painted glass. Ceramic shapes formed with the golden glow. Sometimes she would lie on the pine needles below her in a spot where the light couldn't touch her eyes but did create patterns down her nightclothes and to her toes. Sometimes she would twirl, letting the light catch her in any way it could, touching her eyes and making them go from their dark brown to a dull gold. And sometimes she would just stand there. She would stare upwards toward the trees and close her eyes, her fingers would reach upward and wiggle, catching the threads of golden shards.

It was her place. Her secret spot. No one else would find it, she was sure. It couldn't be seen from the sky. But she traced the path so many times that although it was almost impossible to find, for her it became automatic. Only one other person had actually found The Circle. Slightly had followed her one day. She had gotten up a bit later then usual, only by ten minutes, and went to The Circle to write and think. She had been surprised to see him, and then furious that he had followed. But at the end they had come to a mutual agreement. He didn't tell about The Circle and she wouldn't tell about him stealing Cubby's food and storing it under his bed. Hi stash, he thought, was a well-guarded secret. But when he heard that she knew he was quick to agree. They did the lost boys shake on it, a shake that can never be broken, then he left her to be by herself. But after that, no one else knew.

And as she looked at the spider web of golden webs on her wall she remembered her beloved Circle. She wanted to wake her self up to its dramatic lighting and intense smells. She inhaled, trying to catch any pine aroma from the island, and if not from there then at least from her mind. But all she caught was dust and darkness. Over the last few days she had discovered a lot abut darkness, just as she had learned everything about light. Light smelled like joy, like grass and like pine needles freshly cracked open. Darkness had been a new experience to her. But she picked up things quickly, and this element was no exception. She met it, became acquainted with it and now knew that it smelled like fear, like dust and like the smell that develops after leather is faded and weak. Not entirely bad, but unpleasant.

And unlike her other mornings, where she was awoken on her own time and was gently lulled into security, this morning she was awoken by a clanking of metal hitting metal and a man sneering at her.

"C'mon girly. It's a biiiig day for you. Today we start you classes." Hook said, grinning and hitting his hook on the bars. She stirred and stared up at him, glaring through her cage. He responded with a smile, sugar sweet and completely meant to be ferociously annoying.

"Well isn't someone Miss Sunshine this morning?"

"Oh quit it Hook, just give me the stupid lesson." She croaked out, her voice crackling from no the lack of water and food. The last time she at was… when was it? It must have been the day of her failed escape. And she did get a drink the day after. But that was almost two days ago. It had been to long. That's all she knew.

"Oh, I plan too. All right. Stand up and put your hands behind you."

"I'm not going to escape." She said curtly.

"Just do it you scurvy brat, or do I need to slit you open to get the point across?"

"No, no, no! Here are my hands! Here they are!" He eyed her for a moment, suspicious of her panicked voice, then unlocked the door and grabbed her hands with a bit to much force. How he tied them with only one hand still confused her, but somehow he managed. Then, holding the longer piece of rope in his hand, he walked up the stairs, dragging her behind him. As they reached the top he pulled quickly, causing her to trip. He sniggered.

"Well, I guess chivalry is dead." She muttered. That just caused him to snigger more. He was enjoying her misery, that was for sure.

He led her up the next flight of stairs and back onto the deck. As she was led forward on the surface of the ship she past some of the pirates she had become acquainted with. She was given shy and sympathetic smiles and she responded by giving them back the same look, not really sure who she was reassuring.

Finally she was led to the Captains quarters. He locked the door and untied her. Okay, the first lesson is cleaning. He handed her a bucket and mop from the corner and then a broom. "Swab the floor and then sweep it. And don't start getting ideas about escaping. I put a pirate on watch duty and the window," he motioned to her last escape route. "And don't mess anything up, or our contract is void, got it you dog."

She nodded, but didn't even try to hide the glare that she shot at him.

"And DO NOT start going through my things. Touch anything, closet, chest, barrel, and I will know.

"Okay. Fine. Me no touchy. Happy now?"

He gave her a glare to kill but nodded. But before he left eh put his hook up to her neck. The metal brushed up against her skin. She froze. He watched her with happiness, seeing her swallow in panic. "Don't disobey my orders. Or this hook will be introduced to your neck." And then he left, slamming the door and locking it once again. She sighed and looked down at the mop and broom.

"Well, it could be worse right?" She asked the mop. The mop didn't respond. She took it as a _yes, it definitely can. You know why. You're talking to inanimate objects_. Then she sighed again and began to sweep away the dust.


	21. Brooms, Mops and Paper Cuts

**Personally, I love this chapter and think I did a good job on it. Quick point for anyone who's reading this. Hook is probably in his mid forties. And Lillie is a very young teen. She's not completely sure of her age, she says she's about 15, maybe 14. But she is very young. People may have been wondering. So anyway, back to the story!**

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As Lillie cleaned the floor, sweeping it, then afterwards mopping it, she re alized something that left her even angrier then before. The floors _had_ been cleaned rather recently. When she swept she had hardly found any dust and after she had cleaned the floors she saw that they looked exactly the same.

So now she was standing in a room, her hands aching from holding the broom tightly and her knuckles hurting after she had punched a wall to relieve her anger, that was exactly the same. "What is he trying to do?" she said the mop. "Drive me insane. Oh wait, I'm talking to a mop. It must be working." She let out a long breath of air and sat down on the red stool in front of the high back velvet chair. She wiped her forehead on her hand. "This is unfair." She mumbled, this time to herself. Then she looked around, surveying her surroundings. The room, she realized, was full of the stuff the Captain had told her not to touch.

Then an idea hit her. It was a stupid idea, she knew that much. But she was just so frustrated that her rebellious side showed more then ever. All she wanted was to disobey his each and every rule. Any normal kid would have decided against it. But when Lillie is set on an idea, her stubborn sideshows its face and no one can make it go back. She smirked, looking for what item to rummage through first.

Well, there was a lone barrel in the back of the room. But that wasn't that interesting. There were a few smaller boxes, but she knew that all they would be full of was money and various jewels. _Why does eh even need that stuff? _ She thought. _What do you do with it when you live on an island with no real civilization? _Her thoughts were broken as she spotted the chest that was seated not twenty feet away.

The chest was fairly big, but not big enough to be a treasure chest. It was made from red wood, but under the first layer, as she saw, was lighter texture. A golden brown. The only way she knew was from the carvings. Deep carvings had been made into its surface. They swirled and turned and danced over the smooth wood, making rivers and paths all over the curved surface. She sidled over to it and traced some of the lines with her fingers. The craftsmanship was incredible, no doubt about it.

She let her thoughts linger on the chests articulate detail for just a minute longer, but then her attention was quickly drawn from the outside to the inside. If she wanted to annoy him she would have to do more then just look. She put her hands on either side of the lid and pulled. Nothing happened.

_Locked._ She thought in dismay. The key shaped hole under the lid proved her theory to be correct. _Perfect. He must have the key with him._ She looked around to see any sign of gold or shape of a key, but to utter disappointment found none. _Well what did you expect Lillie? For him to just leave it lying around for anyone to take._ "Although it would have been nice." She mumbled, this time out loud.

She took a minute to stare at the lock more closely. After a deep inspection she realized that although the lock was very good, it was very simple. She had learned to pick locks after a lot of games of Treasure Hunt with Peter and the lost boys, and she had gotten very good at it. And if she was correct, which she was, this lock was even simpler then some of the ones on his treasure chest.

She looked around some more again, this time for a slender object to be used as a key. She went through his closet, finding only pink shirts, ruffles, and some feathered hats and of course his red and gold heavy coats. His other closet only contained pants and about two more pairs of his shoes. But in one of the smaller boxes she recovered a needle set. She took one of the bulkiest needles, deciding that she smaller ones would break to easily.

She walked quickly back over to the chest and kneeled on the floor. Then she started with her work. The picked with the needle in the lock for about five minutes, trying to find the exact spot that would turn and snap open the chest.

_Click_

She smiled devilishly. _There we go! _She put the needle back in the box, not wanting to leave any evidence. Then she put both hands on the lid, once again ready to lift it. Only this time the hinges worked to her liking, and the chest opened revealing…

Papers. That was it. Papers. She sat back in disappointment. So much for rebellion, this stuff is just grownup junk. _Oh well, _she shrugged, sitting back onto her knees. _ As long as I'm here. _ She rummaged through the stacks of papers. She found recites, diary pages, logs and records from each pillage and the exact amount taken. _Boring, boring boring!_ She sang to herself, humming along to each boring she thought. Then out of nowhere, "Ow!" She stared at her hand; a thin line of blood began forming on her palm, under her pinky finger. "Stupid paper." She seared to find the paper that cut her, finally drawing out the culprit.

It was an envelope. The color was yellowing from age, but the corners, as she saw from experience, were still crisp and entirely sharp. The envelope was a pit large, showing that the letter must have been made from a large piece of paper folded over a few times. But the center of the envelope looked abused. Whoever read this letter must not have liked what it said and crinkled it, trying to destroy it's contents. She turned it over.

_To: Captain James Hook_

_From: The Institute of_

But after, _the institute of_, the words cut of, smeared and crumpled and impossible to read. She turned it around slowly and then placed her hand on the flap to open the letter. All rebellion was gone. Now she was just curious. She needed to know what the letter said.

_Click. _

She looked up to see the knob to the door turning. She slammed the trunk closed, forgetting to lock it again and hid the letter underneath the bow on her dress, praying it didn't fall out. The handle turned all the way and she stood, running to the center of the room and grabbing the mop, pretending to be finishing her job.

And just as she reached her position and had taken one r two calming breaths to regain her natural look the door opened and Hook walked in.

He stood in the doorway for a moment and just stared at her. She felt like a criminal for the slightest moment as he eyed her much like a policeman would. Then he slowly walked in, staring at the floor as he did.

"You did a decent job." He said finally, glaring at her.

"So?"

"Decent isn't perfect."

Now it was her turn to glare. "Well, I'm sorry. But if I'm correct, whoever cleaned this floor before me a few days ago did a decent job to."

He looked taken aback, surprised he noticed that he had set her up with a phony job but then regained his composure. "This is punishment, not a real job." He decided, his glare not turning any less cold. "If you expect me to give you a break you're very wrong."

"Punishment? Okay, before I say anything else please tell me _what I'm being punished for_?"

He stared at her a moment longer. "You're a lost bo- girl." He corrected himself.

"Oh so now this is about the way I am."

"No. This is about the way of life." He snapped. She backed up a few steps. The way of life? What was that supposed to mean? She knew they were enemies, but she never thought of it as a way of life thing. "Now turn around and put your hands behind your back," he ordered her, breaking her from her thoughts. She obeyed with ought question, something that surprised him very much, and allowed him to tie her hands together. And then the pirate led the young girl down the stairs and back to her cell.


	22. The Letter

**Well, I'm on vacation. And I loved writing that chapter today so I was just like "why not write another one! I hate cliffy's as much as the next person!" So here it is, my second and possibly not last chapter of the day! Enjoy and keep reading! It's gonna get better! P.S. this chapter is suuuper long!**

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Lillie always presumed darkness to be an element. But as time went by she began to see that it really was a thing. As it got later the darkness already surrounding her became thicker and thicker. It choked her and took up what space she had. It took over the air and the floor and the overall area. It oozed through the bars like thick water, filling up her open caged, making it closed. The spider webs of light were gone now. Everything was gone. The darkness took it. And she hated to admit it, but she was scared.

She had never been fond of the dark. But when the dark took over like this and she had no way out, it became claustrophobic. The bars started to come closer and closer. And after over an hour of sitting in it's clutches she was backed into a corner with the irrational fear of losing her life to something that could not take it.

Tears, hot and sticky and long dried from never being wiped away, clung t her face. They traced patterns down her freckled cheeks, a connect the dots. She had cried for quite a while after he had left. Whenever she was surrounded by the darkness her thoughts became clearer then ever, but at the same time even more muffled. She knew what had happened and what was going on. But in the light she may have dealt more calmly with the small thoughts. In the darkness, they expanded. Enlarged by the helium like fear. Each thought was a slap to the face for her in this situation and she became more and more panic as each word crossed her vision. Alone. Cared. Hurt. Cold. Alone. Unloved. And with each word another tear fell. And the words repeated and repeated and the tears fell and fell.

She had hoped to cry herself to sleep, but no such spoil was given. She clutched her stomach to mute the growling that continuously lashed out, a reminder of how hungry she actually was.

But as she sat there, clutching her stomach and trying not to cry anymore she felt something crinkle against her skin. Ten she remembered. The letter. She had stolen it a few hours ago, but had never really looked at it. She had forgotten after all the other things took over her mind. She withdrew it from the ribbon that tied around her waist and came together in the back as a bow. She had hidden it, folded over underneath the ribbon and he had never seen it, which had surprised her.

She held the letter tightly in her grip and then proceeded to look around the room for any piece of light she hadn't seen. She didn't find any. But as she looked closer and closer through the bars, shapes that were more like shadows began to form in front of her. And then she saw it. Her smile was big enough to create it's own light, Because what she saw was more amazing then she could have ever imagined. It was even better then chocolate, then trees, then her beloved circle and at the moment even better then life itself. She had found a lantern.

She stood there for a minute, then reality hit her. It was on the table outside of her cell. _Okay, okay. No problem. I can deal with this. I just need something to reach with. _She looked around her cell, her arms stretched out to avoid bumping into anything. The "bed" held nothing, and the shelf she discovered over it held nothing either. There were a few chains that held the bed in place did nothing for her, they were bolted hard into the wall. But she didn't give up. After five minutes of walking around, she decided that it would be better to just crawl instead.

So, getting down on her hands and knees, she proceeded to crawl around her cell. She bumped into the bars a few times, resulting in bumps. And she did get a few splinters on her hands. But nothing more. Her leg where she had stitches ached after a few minutes, but she ignored it, keeping her mind on the task ahead.

But after a few more minutes she gave up, deciding that she really was totally alone in this cell. So she walked up to the bars again. She ran her hand over the spaces between the bars and decided that they would be big enough to fit her arm through. She took another look out of the cell to the lantern and decided what space would be best to use. She decided on the one furthest to the left, where the next cage began. She stuck her hand through first, then very slowly pushed her arm through the bars. It was a tight squeeze, and it did some bruising to her arm, but at the end she had the lantern at the opening of the bars. The only problem was that it wouldn't fit through. Her arm was one thing. But the lantern was another. So she finally decided to sit by the bars with the lantern outside.

She sat down and tried to get as comfortable as she could. She crossed her legs and leaned against the metal. Then she turned the knob on the base of the lantern. A light, small but visible, sprang up at the center of the glass. She smiled happily. All the darkness was destroyed and replaced by this beautiful beautiful light. And at the moment everything was perfect. She drew out the letter and turned t around, staring at the back once again. _This is his personal information. Should I really be reading it? _ She smiled. _Yeah, I definitely should!_

The letters were visible once again in the faint yellow glow.

**_To: Captain James Hook_**

**_From: The Institute of_**

"Okay, here goes nothing." And with that she turned the letter around and opened the flap. She grabbed the letter and whisked it out. Laying down the envelope gently onto the wooden floor she unfolded the letter. She had been right; it was one long piece of paper folded multiple times.

So adjusting her space one more time she began to read.

**_Captain James Hook_**

**_My colleagues and I, at the Institute of Sailing located in London, read over your résumé you submitted to us. We are happy to say that you were one of our best applicants. Your sailing skills were above average. As were your captaining skills. We received your test results for these category's two months ago. But of course, as you know, that information is to be withheld from all applicants until résumés and all other paperwork is given in and looked over by the committee. _**

**_For your sailing you were given several test. Steering, wind manipulation, simple on deck skills and safety maneuvers. Your steering was immaculate, as we hoped it would be. Wind manipulation was also one of your stronger points. On deck skills were very well known. You had to take two tests for that, the on hand and the written exam. For the on hand you did very well and as for the written exam you did well. Although your physical tasks were rated higher then your writing skills. Safety maneuvers, we are pleased to say were also well known by you. But once again, the on hand task was scored higher then the written. We were looking for on hand more though, as will any institute. _**

**_As for your test scores. You scored highest in the entire class. Out of 450 sailors to arrive and take the same test in our institute you rose to the top. In sailing you scored an almost perfect score of 99.7 out of 100. A few points were removed because of the written portion. But otherwise, your on hand tasks were amazingly done. _**

Lillie widened her eyes. She had known he was a captain and that he had a ton of jobs, but this was amazing. She had never known he was that good. And she had never known what you put in to be in his position. Tests upon test had to be taken just to be in a position like Smee's!

_**The other portion, captaining, came back with incredible results. Out of the 126 students who also tried for spots as Captains of ships you also came out on top. You had an entire crew under your control in less than ten minutes. And after assigning positions due to your observations of height, weight and muscle mass you passed the test. If you remember it, it was to go through Dead Man's Maze, a portion of a bay filled with many large rocks and unruly currents. **_

**_You led the crew through with incredible results. Not one scratch and everyone back. No men had fallen overboard and every one in your crew was happy with these results as well._**

"Not one scratch." she mumbled to herself. "That's pretty good."

**_We had everyone from the crew you assigned at the institute fill out surveys about your skills and opinions. And everyone had positive reviews. You received a 10 out of 10 for your results after the trip, judged by both the committee and by the crew. A 9.7 out of 10 for skills on deck, judged by the crew who all said that you did you know what you were doing and trusted your methods. And you received a 9.4 out of 10 for disciplinary action, which the crew judged and said were in most parts fair._**

At that she laughed. Well, at least one crew liked him. As far as she knew this crew wasn't to fond of their dear old Captain. And his discipline usually was so unfair it was crazy. It left his men scared and… she though for a moment.. _And it made me end up here. _She signed, but continued to read.

**_This institution is one of the most well known in the world. And we only take the best of the best to be a part of it. _**

Her eyes widened once again as she read through that sentence. The test scores had amazed her. But the best of the best! That was a whole other thing. And being the best of the best at the best school in the world... it almost impressed her. She smiled and whispered "Almost." Then she continued

**_As I am sure you know, once you become a part of this institute you will be accepted into many roles. Of course, the roles you test highest on will be used. For you, captaining a ship would be the one we would choose. You would be able to pick your own crew, either from in the institute, something we highly recommend to all applicants, or from the outside. We did have some problems last year with this rule so it has been lowered from the entire crew to just three people of your choice. That is if you choose to go forward with it._**

**_Once that happens you will be given assignments from the institute for the first year. Then after a year is completed we allow you to break away from us and go on your own. But anyone who has gone to this institute will automatically have a better chance at getting jobs or even attaining ships, crews and money._**

**_Another job that may be assigned will be a teaching position. Due to your sensational scores we received on the tests you would be a perfect teacher for new sailors coming in. We could really use someone with your potential._**

"Hmm." She thought. "That's so great." And she really meant it.

**_There have been some rumors going around though that you do run a pirate ship somewhere in an unknown location. Although we were at first horrified by this news we began to slowly like the idea. We have had pirates here before Mr. Hook. And they all came for the same reason. To retrieve an official license to captain a ship and a document of proof from the institute to make their time doing everything simpler, faster and a more surefire way to receive money. Because stealing doesn't always work, as we have seen in the past. _**

**_But none of them ever received a test score higher then a 60 out of 100 in any test they took. So, judging by your scores and connecting them to the rumors we have heard, you may be the first pirate to be more then just a pirate. You may be the first pirate to actually be am honorable sailor and an incredible captain. And on top of that, your essay on captaining skills had a section on it about good form and bad form. And we have to say, not only are you a great sailor, but an honorable man as well._**

**_We are anxious to hear from you and hope that you decide to join our institute in one years time. It would be an honor to have you here. _**

**_The Committee of the Institute of Sailing_**

**_Head Committee Leader_**

**_George W. Sampson_**

Lillie sat for a moment in confusion. He had been accepted. The Captain who had her as a hostage on his ship right now had been accepted to one of the most prestigious sailing institutions in the world. And yet here he was. He was still here, captaining his own crew with not one diploma or license in sight.

This letter was from a very long time ago. She looked at the date. It had been before she had come. Before Jane had come and even before Wendy had come. But he was supposed to have gone in one year's time. Had he turned them down? Was he worried about growing older? He was already a grownup, but he could grow more No that couldn't be it. Even if he had gone he would never have grown any more. He would go during the hours eh was needed and then go back to Neverland. Or did he just love fighting Peter Pan to a point where he would never leave? She was just so confused. Even if she loved fighting Peter Pan, she would have given up everything she had here and gone. She would have become a great sailor, earned titles, had a _future!_ But he had none of that. All he had was the crew that was asleep on the floor above her, a ship that was tearing apart and a title in front of his name that only served to show his position here.

And then his future, what future did he have. To fight Pan forever? That was no future. And even she knew it.

She finally shrugged and decided not to look too much farther into it. It had been his choice. What did she care if he had no stupid title? She didn't! All she wanted to know was a way out of here.

She slouched against the bars and grabbed the envelope, preparing to stuff the letter back into it's spot so it would seem like she had never taken it at all. She could put it back in it's spot tomorrow and lock the chest. But as she opened the envelope again another piece of paper fell out. She scrunched her eyes in confusion. _I thought there had been only one!_

She picked it up and looked at it. This paper, unlike the other, was a normal sized sheet and only got folded over once, so it was very thin. And only a small portion was filled with words. She looked at the date and frowned. This letter had come a few months after the first one had been received. She opened it and then read it through quickly.

**_Captain James Hook_**

**_My colleagues and I, at the Institute of Sailing located in London, recieved word that you were recently in a fight that was the cause of a great injury. We are very sorry to hear of you wound and your loss. And we are even sorrier to say that because of this injury we will have to void your application to our academy. _**

**_The Committee of the Institute of Sailing_**

**_Head Committee Leader_**

**_George W. Sampson_**

Lillie sat there slumped against the bars and just stared at the words. The had to decline his application to the institution. Even though, as it clearly stated in the previous letter, he was one of their first choices. The best of the best and rated highest in his class. They had denied him. _But why? _ She thought. She read it through again.

**_We are very sorry to hear of your wound and your loss._**

_Okay, so he got injured. But an injury shouldn't make them turn him down. But what did he lose? _She thought again. And then it hit her. The realization that was staring her in the face for all the years. It was so obvious and so simple, and could be summed up in just two words.

"His hand." She said quietly to herself. "Hook was turned down because Peter cut off his hand."

And for the first time in ever she felt something for the pirate she thought she never would. She felt sad for him. Because she never knew how much pain that hook had caused him until now.


	23. Cooking is Easy Right?

When things are on your mind, they gnaw at your very lifestyle, putting holes in it and making everything harder. They stop you from living your life the way you usually would. And for Lillie this was no exception. Sure, she didn't live a normal lifestyle already. But the letter made everything worse. Her sleeping worsened that night and at one point she even turned off the light, something she thought she would never do.

But by the next morning not only was she dehydrated and hungry, but she was tired as well. And when Hook came down to get her that morning he was surprised to find her awake with the hands already behind her back ready to go.

He stared at her for a moment. "Is this a trick, dog?"

"What do you think?" She croaked out, surprised by how weak her voice was becoming. He didn't seem to notice, or maybe he just didn't care.

"Yes. Anything you do is a trick. All right. Time for lesson number two."

He tied her hands behind her back again and led her up two flights of stairs. She was waiting to reach the deck, but they never did. Instead he led her to the kitchen. He untied her hands, but locked the doors so that it was impossible for her to run. Then he turned back to her.

"Alright. Lesson number two. Cooking." He grabbed a pot with his hook, swung it around a few times and then let it fly at her head. She shrieked and ducked, allowing the heavy cooking tool to fly past her. She felt the wind as it rushed over her hair and then flinched as it loudly hit the floor. The stood slowly back up and looked into the eyes of a very angry Captain.

"You were supposed to catch it." He glared down at her.

"Well I'm sorry. But when pots come flying at your head, the initial reaction is to NOT LET THEM HIT YOU!"

He glared at her for a moment more, but said nothing more. She gave him an equally cold glare, and then went to pick up the pot and set it hard down on the stove. "Okay. What do you want me to do?"

"What do you mean?"

"What do you mean, what do I mean?"

"I'm mean what do you mean. It's not hard to understand. What do you mean when you say WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO!"

"Well, are you going to tell me what to do capitaine? Or are you not?"

He stared at her in disbelief for a moment. Then he stuck his hand out strait, pointing to the stove and speaking as slowly as he could.

"I. Want. You. To. Cook."

"You know, I do speak English."

He did a face palm and then drew his hand down his face in frustration. "Just get to work." And then he left. Lillie watched him leave and heard the lock click as the door closed. Oh well. No escape today. She might as well cook.

She looked around at her surroundings, tuning her body to see what she could use. Most of the food, she had already seen, was on the floor below her. But that door had been locked. So she would have to use what she had. She looked around some more for a few minutes, then settled for grabbing some onions from above her. She found some onions in the corner and a few tomatoes. And on one of the shelves she found some water. She didn't dare drink or eat anything though; the fear of poison was to great. _It could be his plan_ she suspected. _When he knows what I want most he gives it to me, but makes it deadly. Well I'll show him._

She looked down at the items in her hand, deciding to just go and try to cook something. Maybe something, she hoped, would just appear. But she was smarter then that. So, after a few determined glares at the onions in her hand she placed them into the pot.

_Okay. Tomato soup, here you go. _Then she thought harder. _But first I should probably learn how to cook._

o0o

Hook was fairly proud of himself. Judging by the behavior of his hostage he would have a mother figure for the crew before the week was out. She would make him a meal, that was the last job he had given her, and then he would figure out what lesson to give her tomorrow. But for now cooking would be his main focus.

And that would probably be the easiest one for her. He turned to Smee who was looking over the waters in search of the crocodile.

"So how are her lessons going Captain?" Smee asked, not looking up from his work.

"Its going… good."

"Does that mean bad?"

"Are you questioning me Smee?

"No! N-n-never C-c-captain!"

"Good. Well to answer your question its going good."

Smee looked at him for a minute. "How stubborn is she Captain?"

"Incredibly. But I have her cooking right now."

"And are you sure she'll know what to do?"

"Of course, all women know how to cook."

"No offence Captain," Smee said timidly. "but I don't think that's true."

"Of course it's true. Now are you questioning my knowledge of women?"

"I w-w-would never q-question y-you captain!" Hook glared at him for a moment. "Ever!" Smee backed up a bit, staring at the Captains left hand. Or hook.

"Good." Hook's voice lowered threateningly as he glared down at the little man. "Because I'm sure you have had no experience with women."

"No mere then you." Smee muttered as the Captain turned.

"What was that Mister Smeeee?"

"NOTHING CAPTAIN… SIR!" Then he smelled the air. "I just was saying, do you smell burning?"

The Captains eyes widened and he sprinted down the stairs, leaving a wide eyed crew and a relieved looking Smee behind.

o0o

Lillie sat on the floor in the smoking room. Her back was against the oven door and her head was leaned back against it's cold surface. And she didn't react as she heard the frantic footsteps running towards her. And she hardly even flinched as a voice yelled,

"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?"

She opened one eye. "What does it look like?"

"Well," he took off his coat and began to fan out the room as best he could. "It looks lie you failed." He stopped fanning to look into the pot. The bottom was charred and full of some sort of bubbling red-black stuff. He couldn't tell if it was a liquid, a solid or a living animal. "Wait. I'm sorry. It looked like you failed miserably."

He looked down the glare at her again but was shocked to see her hands covering her face. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a little guilty. _Wait? What do I feel? _He thought, surprised. _I can't feel sympathy for this… this._ He looked down at her again and felt a little bad again. _Well, maybe this once._

He sat down next to her on the floor. "It isn't… that bad."

She looked at him, smirking. "You can drop the act."

"Alright all right. It is that bad. But why do you look like you feel bad about it?"

"Because I feel like a failure." He stared at her for a moment. "Look, I like getting the job done. And I hate failing at things that are so simple. And usually I hate to admit I'm wrong. But right now I'm gonna admit it." She looked him right in the eye. "I can't cook." Her face went back into her hands. "I'm starving, I'm thirsty and I just failed at the easiest of tasks."

Hook looked down at the small girl sitting next to him He hated to say it but, he knew how she felt. He hated failing. It was the worst feeling. But sometimes he just had to admit it. Not that he would. He was surprised that she had even told him that much. And the hungry and thirsty thing that was his fault.

But as he looked at her more he still couldn't help but feel a little guilty for her.

"Come one." He gently took her elbow and stood up. She looked up at him scared.

"What are you going to do to me?"

Her voice sounded panicked, and her eyes showed how she really believed he was going to do something terrible to her. He gave her a gentle smile, or as gentle a smile as he could manage. He never was good at the sympathy thing. "You said something about being hungry?" She nodded slowly, her face not changing. "Well, Im going to make you something to eat."


	24. Thank You

**Sorry this chapter took so long. I was on vacation! Skiing was fun! Okay, enjoy!**

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Smee had known Captain Hook for a long time. A VERY long time. And as long as he had known him there was one thing he was absolutely certain of. Hook would _never_ change, and he had never changed. He never really understood the reason why. People change all the time. But his theory was that he was just to busy to let anything change him. And he never would let anyone change him. He changed them instead.

It was simple really. Before Smee had met Hook he was a very scholarly fellow. He loved books and theories and anything that could prove something wrong or right. One summer he had been tight on cash and had desperately needed a job. That was when eh met Hook. He had looked a little different them, a bit younger, possibly late thirties. He had told him that he was looking for a Captains helper. He had been new in the business of captaining a ship then, but was not new to the sea.

Smee had asked him why he was at port and he had simply told him, "tests." And that was all. Smee had known from the beginning that the man was no nonsense and harsh. Everything he said while telling Smee about the job and other things was strait forward and direct. And his stance that would never change either. His eyes constantly burned with an anger that seemed to be everlasting and the way he stood was the same position you stand in when you look ready to kill. He was a dangerous man from the start. And Smee could see it then even when Hook wasn't in action.

So why he took the job he still didn't know.

And from the moment he stepped on the ship hook began changing him. He made him more nervous then ever. His hair went from a mix of grey and black to pure white and he began to slouch more. And although his cheery demeanor never did change he developed nervous habits that he could never break, wringing his hands and tapping his feet. Yes, he had changed a lot.

But the Captain didn't.

Smee sighed and started to look over the water once again, searching for the crocodile. He actually felt bad for the girl. Not only for being in Hook's clutches. That was bad enough. But to add on to it, she was going to change. There was no question in his mind that she was going to change. Because now she was in the hands of Captain Hook, and he knew that the first priority in hook's mind was to bend the poor girl's spirit until her entire being was nothing but clay for him to mold into putty. Because that's what he did. He changed people, and it never happened the other way around.

o 0 o

"Okay, now hand me the onions."

"Here you go."

"Tomatoes."

"Tomatoes!"

"Ginger."

"Gin-what?" She looked at him in confusion. For the last ten minutes she had been running around the kitchen and bringing him everything he needed. His orders were relentless and he never cut her a break, but for some reason she still found it, in a way… fun.

"Ginger, girly, ginger." She stared at him for a moment longer. He slammed down the spoon he was holding onto the stovetop and marched over with his long frustrated strides. He reached around her to the herb that had been hanging down form a rope on the ceiling. He held it in her face.

"THIS. IS. GINGER!"

"Alright, alright! I get it." He handed it to her and strode back over to the stove.

"Ginger." He ordered, holding out his hand.

She looked down at the rough vegetable like thing in her hand and then stared at him with her moth open in amazement. "Are you kidding me? You just had it? Why do I need to give it to you?"

"Because, I'm the Captain. And when I give a command, as ridiculous as that command may be, you obey it."

"So you admit this command is ridiculous?" She tried, sounding challenging.

"No." He glared at her. "This command is a learning process."

"To learn what?"

"What ginger is! Now give me the ginger before I slice you open." She gave it to him, but not before mumbling a lot about unfair commands and practices. He ignored her and started ordering her around for more things.

Finally, after twenty agonizingly long minutes for the both of them, there was a pot of tomato soup boiling happily on the stove.

"Okay. Now, you're going to finish it." He told her simply, handing the spoon to her and treating it more like he was handing over a commanding position. She took it and stared at it, not sure what to do. He sighed again. "Just stir the soup for a few minutes. Do you think you can handle that incredibly demanding task?" She glared at him for the last part, but nodded and started at her job.

He watched her for a few minutes, criticizing her stirring methods and pointing out what she was doing wrong.

"No, no, no. Stir in a constant pattern. Don't let the soup boil over this point here. Make sure that you don't let the spoon off the bottom of the pot." The orders went on and on and he was surprised for the most part that she didn't totally reject them. There were a few glares her and the and the occasional, "okay, I get it!" But for the most part she would nod and follow through with the given order, going through with his directions perfectly.

Soon, the soup was done. She had gotten to add the spices and change the heat; all under his close watch, and had actually done a decent job. And he was surprised when, instead of trying to be rebellious and figure out another way too disobey his rules, she looked him strait in the eye and said, "Now what?"

He stared at her for a moment, trying to run through what had just occurred in his mind. Lillie, the girl that was so stubborn, so hotheaded, so annoyingly persistent in her goal to ruin his life had just asked _him_ for a command.

"Ah… well. Why don't you sit down… over there." He pointed to a small table near them. She walked over and watched curiously as he reached up onto a high shelf and brought down a bowl. He poured in some of the steaming liquid. After he had placed it down next to him he fetched a spoon and a glass of water. Then in a very quick and orderly fashion, he dispensed them all in front of her. He went back and got another spoon and then sat down at the chair across from her.

"Try it." He motioned with his good hand. Then he lifted up the spoon. "I brought this in case you wanted me to try it first, to test for these poisons you so often accuse me of." She looked at him for a moment.

"No, it's okay. I trust you… this time." And then she took a bite. Her eyes got bigger as she swallowed.

"What? Too hot?"

"This is really good!" She mumbled and then began to eat more.

He laughed a little at her reaction but realized this and quickly gave her an authoritative look. "And after this it's back to your cell. I should leave you in there for two day's, after your failure today."

"How did you learn to cook like this?" She asked, totally ignoring his threat. He looked taken aback for a minute, suprised at how quick she was to disregard what he said, but he recovered adn waved his hook in the air nonchalantly, making his voice sound as bored as possible.

"To survive on this ship you have to learn a few things that our current cook may not."

"Let me guess. The food here is awful, so you took matters into your own hands."

"Basically."

She continued to eat the soup while he started to clean up, keeping his mind busy in as many ways as he could. _What am I doing? _He continued to ask himself. _She is my prisoner. I shouldn't be cooking for her! She doesn't deserve this! Any of it._

He turned to look at the girl sitting at the small table who had stopped eating and was just looking at him curiously. He glared down at her. "What is it now?"

"Nothing."

"Good. When you finish clean up all of this. I expect it to be done and for you to be in your cell in one hour. Got it?"

He waited for a snappy reply to send his temper souring but all she did was nod. He looked at her and then went back to the deck, slamming the door in the process.

One hour later exactly he went back to the kitchen, ready to let out a string of threats but stopped in his tracks. The entire kitchen was cleaned from the stove top to the shelves and even to the floors. She was nowhere in sight, so he presumed that she was back in her cell. He turned to go, still in slight shock, when something caught his eye. On the lid of the now cleaned out soup pot was a small piece of green paper that looked like it was from his study. He cautiously went up to it and picked it up. On it, it choppy but legible handwriting were just two words. But it was those two words that would keep him wondering for the rest of the night.

_Thank you_


	25. Sewing, Light and Storytime

**Sorry this one took longer! It is super long! On my word document it's ten pages! Wooo! Okay! Enjoy adn review pleeeeaaaase!**

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The next morning, for some reason, Lillie didn't mind getting up. Usually the thought loomed overhead and threatened to ruin the rest of her day. On bad mornings sometimes it threatened to ruin her life. But this morning was just… different. She woke up early and for some reason, wasn't tired. Her stomach wasn't grumbling and her throat wasn't complaining from a lack of water. When she got off of her "bed", the wooden board attached to the wall, she didn't feel cramped or sore.

And for some reason the only thought that rang in her mind was, it's going ot be a good day.

Or as good as these day's could be. She was after all still a prisoner on a boat.

The only downside to the entire morning was the fact that she woke up in the dark and the first thing that she touched were the bars to her prison. She hated those bars. The cut her off of everything and seemed to just trap her inside. Well, she knew that they already did trap her inside, but they made her _feel _trapped. Walls are the same as bars you know. They have the same purpose and do the exact same thing. They keep things in and keep things out. And sometimes that thing ends up being you.

She always hated walls. She remembered telling people that when she lived back on the solid ground of earth. And not many people thought very highly of that dislike. They tried to explain that walls kept out burglars. They kept out wind and snow and the cold.

But she just said that she wasn't scared of burglars, she had nothing for them to steal anyway. She hated rain, but wasn't that what trees were for, to keep you out of the rain? She had never seen snow, so that didn't weigh heavily in her mind as something she should be wary of. And as for the cold? She could just put on a jacket and light a fire. Because as much as walls kept those things out, those easily fixable problems, they kept her in. And after what had happened to her when she lived with her mother, she never wanted to be kept in again.

That was part of the reason she found Never Land so perfect. Granted that it was in no way perfect. No places. Not even Never Land. But in Never Land there were no real walls. And when there were, there was always a way out. No locks, no keys. Nothing to keep her in or out. But, no place is perfect. And now she knew that there were walls in Never Land. Very few. But they were there. And she was the lucky person who got to be behind them.

She tapped on them a few times, listening to the steel echo each beat. The sound rang out of the darkness, stopping when it hit an object in the room. As she did the a few more times, amused by the sound the rusted bars made, her fingers hit a particularly hard spot. She rubbed the tips of her fingers and then put her hand on the spot. Unlike the bars vertical and thin physique, this spot was square and much more bulgy. She screwed up her eyes, confused for a minute. Her more curious nature came out, as it did so often, and all of her attention went to the large square piece of metal.

Her fingers played scales up and down the object, trying to figure out what it did, how it worked, how it might benefit her. So far all she had gathered from her blind investigation was that the object was square, was bulky and stuck out and it was attached to the bars. But not by an adhesive. It was more a _part _of the bars. It did something, she knew that much. But what? She gently placed her hands outside of the bars, trying not to bruise the bones in her wrist as she did. Once again she felt the object. Her fingers felt some sort of opening that formed a distinct shape.

_Oh! _She exclaimed silently to herself. _How could I have been so stupid? It's the lock._ She laughed at herself, chuckling lightly. Then she stopped short. _It's a lock. It's the lock! _"IT'S THE LOCK!" She shouted to herself out loud. Her mind was racing so fast that she could hardly keep up. But the plan seemed to form anyway. And she put it together like a puzzle. She had picked the lock of the chest easily. This was the same. Her fingers felt the keyhole again. _In fact, this may be even simpler. _Sure, she would have no way of seeing what she was doing. But did that matter? All she needed was a way to open the lock. And of course a few hours unsupervised, a privilege she received daily. Getting the pick would be simple. She would just have to grab any slender small object, a needle or a hairpin, and she would have her way out.

The only problem was the water. She sighed and covered her eyes then resorted to rubbing her temples. The water would be a big problem, the only real flaw in her perfect plan. _I might just have to brave it out. _She thought. _Sure the first time didn't work so well, but I'm sure the second time will be better. And I'm sure if I find a way to call Peter he can find me and pick me up. In fact,_ her eyes shot open. _Next time he attacks the ship I'll escape. He can take me back! It's perfect. He attacks the ship all the time! _She stopped pacing, something she hadn't realized she had been doing until now, and rubbed her hands together happily. Yes, that plan would work.

Now all she had to do was wait.

She thought for a moment and then groaned. She had never been much of a person for waiting.

o0o

At 7:47 that morning the Captain walked down the steps to the prison he kept his new hostage in. No. That wasn't right. She wasn't a hostage anymore. It had started out that way. Now she was just a prisoner. Just a plain prisoner. And he was determined to keep treating her like one. The soup incident, he realized, had been far to nice of him to do. He should not be cooking for his prisoner. And she should not be saying thank you to him. She should be cowering at his feet and begging for him to spare her pathetic worthless life. So today everything was going to change. No more nice Captain Hook. He would show her the true meaning of malicious.

He reached the bottom of the stairs into the pitch-black room, now illuminated by the soft glow of his lantern. He blinked a few times adjusting to the change of lighting. The bars slowly took shape in front of his eyes. He began to see more and finally he could see the little brat. She was fast asleep on the bench, breathing lightly and curled up. He smirked to himself. _This_ would be fun.

He slowly removed his rapier from its sheath. He raised the thin bladed sword into the air, and then with as much force as he could put into his arm he hit the bars. Steel hit steel with a clang that could put church bells to shame. And the scream that came after was almost worth being the same room as the sound.

She fell off of the bench with a shrill scream. The floor caught her with a dull thud following. She stayed down for a few seconds and then slowly raised her torso, supporting her upper body with her left arm, still keeping her back to him. She rubbed her eyes with her right hand and them turned slowly to look at him. He was sneering at her and a cruel laugh was coming from his throat, rumbling lightly but reaching her ears perfectly.

She made sure to glare at him with as much force as she could, making sure that he knew she wasn't going to be on good terms either. As long as he wanted a war, she would be joining. And there was no way she would be playing fair. But if he let up, she would too gladly retreat… for a time. But it didn't seem like he was going to be letting up anytime soon.

"Alright you scurvy brat." He roared, pacing back and forth and slamming down the blade of his sword into the curve of his hook, once again allowing to ring of metal to flash through the air. "Today is lesson number three." He rolled his r's as he said _three_. "And this will possibly be the hardest for you. Well, it was supposed to be the easiest, but since you lack the skill to do _anything_ I am going to assume that the terms will be the same in this case as well."

"You know, I can do stuff." She growled back with just as much fire. "For instance, unlike pirates, I actually know how to _think_."

"What. Did. You. Say?" He turned and placed his face as close to the bars as he could. His eyes burned with anger, more then they had in a while, as he stared strait at the girl. The dim light shone on her, giving off a somewhat blurry impression of her face. But her eyes, they sparkled with hate and at the same time… amusement. This was a game. And she, unlike so many others, had decided to play. _What she doesn't know_, thought the captain, _is that most don't make it out of that game alive._

"Oh. I'm sorry. Did you not hear me? Here, I'll talk louder." The amount of sarcasm in her voice could kill. Unfortunately, Hook wasn't one to bend easily. "I said," she leaned closer and raised her voice, so that she wasn't shouting, but more stern in tone. "That unlike pirates, I actually know how to THINK!"

"Alright, that's it. I'm done."

"Well, it's about time."

"I was going to allow you to leave unbound, but I guess that's not an option."

"Wow!" she feigned a gasp, raising her hand to her dramatically opened mouth. "Unbound! Well. That sure is _some kind_ of improvement, huh?"

The captain just stared at her, then ran his hand down his face in complete frustration. He thought this was going to be easy. But then looking over at her he started to realize something. She was just a child. And she was the most stubborn child he had ever met. And he loathed children. But this child. This, this… monstrosity. He had just realized that he loathed her worst of all.

"He unlocked her cage and bound her hands with more force then usual. But he was sure, that even under his angry stare, that he heard her sniggering to herself with pride that could only be created when you ruin someone's life.

He led her up the stairs and all the way to his quarters. He slammed the door shut and unbound her. Then he walked over to his closet and pulled out about ten of his elegant, expensive, red velvet coats. He dropped them in a pile in front of her. She looked at them all. They had been cleaned recently and they shone in the light coming through the window. But something about them was wrong. She picked one up by just the tips of her fingers, making sure that he could see the disgust on her face that came from touching the coat he owned. She heard him scoff, and smiled. That was the reaction he was looking for.

She inspected the coat further and soon realized that all of them were torn. Some were hanging together by just one seam, others had huge holes in them and a rare few had been slashed into ribbons.

"Why are you giving me these?" She asked.

"I am giving you these so that you can fix them." He handed her the needle and thread, making a display of a low bow as he did. "I want you to sew." She stared at the items like foreign words, unreadable and not useful until learned. He sighed. "Do we REALLY have to go through this again?"

"Apparently. Since I'm the girl who can't do anything." She snapped back.

He let out another sigh and reluctantly grabbed a needle from the box. Grabbing the stool from his piano he sat down next to her, keeping the distance between them as spaced out as possible, but enough to allow her to see.

"You sew?" she asked him as he eyed the coat. He didn't take his eyes off the fabric but he did talk to her with a tone that could be associated with a glare.

"Yes. I do. Strange, all of a sudden I go to the pirate who can't think to the one that does it all." He eyed the fabric some more then quickly drew out the needle and began sewing. He kept the stitches close together and even and following the same pattern. Under, over, under, over, under, over. He became engrossed in his job and soon seemed to forget she was there. But she didn't mind much. She just watched him until she thought she knew what to do. She picked up things very quickly and soon was sewing as quickly as he was and with enough mastery to show she had been doing it for years, when in reality she had only begun just a few short minutes ago.

They sat in silence for hours. Never stopping to even glance at each other. Once and a while Hook would wonder why he was helping, knowing that he had assigned the job to her, but after a few stitches he would become so intent on finishing that the idea was pushed away until the last stitch was drawn. It became a vicious circle in his mine, and circles, as many people know, don't end. But his circle of thoughts did end. After every single coat was finished.

He knew they were done when he heard Lillie sigh from beside him and the creak of a chair as she leaned back. He looked up from his work to see her rubbing her eyes after the strain, and then onto her hands after holding a needle for so long. She looked worn out from fatigue and hunger that was only subsided a day ago. She leaned her head forward.

"Well," he broke the silence making her jump.

"Well, what?"

"Well, we're done. I suppose I could give you a piece of bread and then back to your cell." He watched her for a moment. "Why do you tense up like that?"

"Excuse me?"

"Whenever I say the word cell," he jumped up. "There! See! You did it again!"

"What did I do?"

"You tense up."

"Well I'm sorry if the idea of a cell doesn't thrill me." She sighed "I- I just don't like dark, cold, closed spaces. And that's what the cell is. Okay. That's all."

"What?" he sneered. "Scared of the dark?"

"N-no. I-it's not that. I-it's just. It's…" she looked up at him and he saw that her eyes looked sad and distant. She made eye contact and that all disappeared in a second. "It's nothing." She said, her voice firmer. "And I refuse to tell you." She crossed her arms and turned away in a hopeful defiance.

"You… refuse?" His voice became deeper and more threatening. "You refuse!" He grabbed her forearm and began to drag her to the door, "Don't you get it, you scurvy brat. On my ship, when you are my captive, refusing is NOT AN OPTION!"

"Hey! W-what are you doing?" she asked as she was dragged to the door. Because she was so short and he was so tall, their difference in height caused her to almost be carried. Her feet tried to reach the ground because of the amount his arm was raised as he strode to the door.

"I think it's time for lesson number four, girly." And then he pushed her out the door. "Storytelling." The look on her face, that utter fear and desperation, was what he had been waiting to see. And the amount of joy he got from it was amazing. _This is what a prisoner should look like! _ He thought. "Smeeeee!" He shouted, and at once the short man was at his heels. "Assemble the crew and grab us a chair."

"Aye' aye sir!" he shouted, and at once blew his whistle, assembling the entire crew. All of them saw Lillie and their faces, just a second ago bloodthirsty, softened. Some of them new her from tying knots and her constant trips with Hook up and down from the dock as she was led to and from her cell. But those who didn't know her were told about her. And almost immediately fell in love with the girl. She had always had that affect on people, whether she was present or not. And was somehow able to bring out the best in the worst. Hook was just the opposite, and was more resistant to people like that then any other person anywhere. Smee soon joined the gathering with a chair in hand which he placed by the captain, who promptly shoved Lillie down upon, keeping his hands on her shoulders so that she had no way of getting up from the wooden seat.

"Now crew, Miss Lillie here is going to tell us a story. Isn't that right?"

"NO IT IS NO-"

"TELL US A STORY!" The entire crew shouted happily. The reaction surprised her She had known they had all wanted a mother and someone to tell them story's, but this was borderline desperation.

"Look." She tried to reason with them. "I don't know any story's. Okay! Problem solved."

"Wendy once told a story!" said one pirate.

"Yeah!" said another. "The one about what real mother's are!"

"The one she told to the lost boys!" said yet another pirate.

"Tell us about mother's!" Another few of them chorused. "Real mothers!"

She stared out into the crowd of pirates, feeling lost and scared and helpless. She felt a hard nudge on her back that was the Captains hook. "Well? He sneered. "Go on."

She took a deep breath, figuring she might as well get it over with. No matter how hard it would be.

"Life is unfair." She started. "It gives you things that sometimes you never wanted. Most of the times you can get out of the situation." She glared at hook. "But other times… other times you're stuck. Sometimes you're given a situation. But other times… other times you're… born into it." She looked around at the pirate's faces, all showing confusion.

"I have heard about these mothers that Wendy talked about." She began again. "And although what she said was true, what was it again?" She spoke the words out loud. "a mother, a real mother is the most wonderful person in the world. She's the angel voice that bids you good night. Kisses your cheek, whispers, 'Sleep tight'. Well, she left out the fact that there are other kinds of these so-called "real mothers."

Her hands dug into her skin as she prepared to talk about something she hadn't wanted to say to anyone, but was now forced to do so in front of a crowd.

"There once was a girl. She lived in a small house, on a small street, in a small town, in a place you would call, the middle of nowhere. She didn't have much to her name, but that was mostly because it was right before the war was starting and her family was not very wealthy. Well, what family she had. Because, you see. She didn't have a father. She just had a mother." The pirate's faces softened at that magic word. _Wow. _She thought. _Pathetic._

"Her mother was a real mother. She was legally her mother. Because that's what it means literally to be a mother. To be a real mother figuratively is the kind of mother Wendy described. She's the perfect person. Loving, caring, and someone you never let go of." She began to feel Hook's hands lighten on her shoulders. Smee next to her was listening contently, leaning on a railing and blinking slowly, a goofy smile on his face. And the other pirates seemed to be doing the same. _Well, here comes the downer._

"Unfortunately." Her nails dug into her skin. "Her mother was none of that."

And with that the pirates all snapped up. "B-but what do you mean? She's a mother isn't she? All mother's are like that?" One of the pirates said, sounding a bit betrayed. The others nodded and Lillie just laughed sadly.

"Yeah, you would think that, wouldn't you? But some people weren't that lucky. And this girl." She closed her eyes, trying to stay calm by taking a few deep breaths. "This girl wasn't. Her mother was an… awful person. She would lock the girl away for days and days on end. Sometime's she would starve her for no reason at all. Just to… just to teach her a lesson." She could hear her voice cracking and willed herself not to break. "Sometimes she would beat the girl, just for the fun of it. And that happened her entire life." The pirates were all leaning in, surprise growing on their faces. Smee looked like completely dumbfounded, and even Hook, who was now sitting at his desk looked more confused then ever. Lillie wanted to stop there, but something willed her to continue.

"And the saddest part of all of that…" she took a deep breath, keeping the quiver out of her now cracking voice. "Is that the girl actually loved her. She would try and try and _try_ to figure out what it was that she was doing wrong. And all just to gain one affectionate word. Or even just a look that showed that the mother cared. Or at least regarded her as a daughter!" She took another deep breath. _Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry._

"But it was hard. Because even though she wanted to know that the mother loved her, she knew that she never would."

"Why?" asked Smee quietly, after a short pause from Lillie.

"Because she reminded her of it every day." Some pirates now stood with mouths gaping open. Other's just looked sad. Smee looked close to tears, but he was a very emotional man.

"She would remind her every day that no one would love her. That she was worthless and meaningless. And after a time… she believed her. Soon, her only hope would come from Peter Pan stories she had heard. She would call and wait every night for him to come and take her away to Never Land." She heard Captain Hook scoff from behind her.

"So that's it. She escaped the woman because Peter flew her to safety."

She laughed sadly again. "No." that took him by surprise and they looked at each other for a moment. It was the first real time that she had really looked at him and regarded him with so much honesty. "No, he never came. At least, not when she was with her." The captain looked away and down to a map he was studying, but she could see the confusion in his eyes where the anger so regularly was found. "But somehow, she always hoped that mother would change her mind and love her. I- I mean she," she faltered with the words for a moment, then regained the courage to continue. "She should have known. Anyone who did everything that they did to her all my life. Beat her, lock her in the dark, starve her. They would never love her, and she shouldn't have hoped for it. But she did. Because that mother was all that she had. And then, one day she thought it had come true." The pirates seemed to all look at her hopefully.

"One day, she told her that they were going away. Together. Just the two of them. She really thought that this meant they would live happily together forever. She took her to a building that she had never seen in my life. They walked in and she told the girl to wait just a minute, she would be right back. She saw her talking to a woman. She looked a lot like the mother, tall and mean. The woman just seemed to look at her with distaste, but nodded at whatever the mother said. And then the mother walked out the door. The girl followed of course, ready to live my happily ever after." Some of the pirates chuckled. Others smiled, relieved at the happy ending. But there cheerful faces left when hers vanished and he closed her eyes in an attempt to cal herself.

She kept her eyes closed at the finished, putting her forehead on the side of her hand. "But she pushed me- I mean the girl away. She tried to run after her. Asking her why she would leave her here. Why she would give her away. She asked her if it was because of money or something that I- she did." The tears began to flow as her voice trembled mercilessly. "And then she turned and slapped her. She fell down and just stared at her mother. The last words she ever said to her were, 'I'm leaving you here, because I can't love you. And believe me when I say that no one will.'" Lillie rested her forehead fully on her palm now, not even fighting the tears anymore. "I was just six at the time."

And then they all knew. She heard a few gasps from the listening crowd. Some sounded confused, others sad. Smee sniffled from next to her. A few of the pirates advanced forward, trying to say and encouraging word or something to let her know it would be okay. But them their words just hung in the air and dropped. Because after that kind of confession there is nothing you can say. She had lived it already. And nothing could change that.

The pirates didn't speak. No one did for a while. Lillie looked around embarrassed. Then she noticed that Hook had disappeared from the crowd. She wondered for a minute where he had gone. But the voice behind her that made her jump gave her the answer

"All right you scurvy dogs! Back to work! It's late and story time is over!" He sneered the last part. Lillie looked over the pirates, now bustling a little more sadly around, and looked at the sun hanging very low in the sky. She hadn't realized how late it had gotten.

She didn't resist that time when Hook took her by the arm to bring her back down to the cell. He didn't bind her arms thought, and his grip was gentler then usual. He led her down into the dark again, lighting a lantern for his trip up. But before he left he turned around quickly to stare at her. "Here," he said gruffly. "You can use it for tonight." She looked into his hand to see one of the red coats in his grip. She took it slowly and felt just how warm it really was in her grip. She looked down at the coat, then back up to him. "What?" he asked. She threw herself at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist. He had never known just how small she was until now; her head only reached his stomach. She looked venerable and tiny compared to how she had been this morning and who he was sure she was most of the time. A fighter and not one to lose easily.

But just because of the sudden display of affection he didn't change anything. He pushed her away quickly. "What do you think you're doing, you brat?" She just backed away, her eyes sad. He sighed. "Just get in your cell." She ran in and he was about to lock it when she ran out again.

"What are you doing now you scurvy br-" but he was cut off when she pushed something into his hand. Then she quickly backed up into her cell and slammed the door shut before he could, keeping her hand on it in an attempt to keep him from getting in. He looked down at his hand, still closed around the object. It was an envelope. No. It was the envelope.

He looked at the envelope, then at her, then at the envelope, then at her, then at the envelope and then one last time at her. Her eyes were large and pleading, begging for him to understand. He looked one last time at the letter before he shoved it into his pocket, out of sight but not out of mind. His shock slowly turned to frustration, then to anger and then to fury. He raised his hook and lunged at the bars, ready to open them and finish of the girl. "WHY YOU LITTLE-"

"IM SORRY!" she screamed, her eyes squeezed shut, hands still griping onto the bars ferociously, her knuckles turning a bright white contrasting her sun tanned skin.

"_Well, it's a little late for that, don't you think?" _He hissed at her.

"No." her voice was now soft, and she stared at the ground. "I mean I'm sorry about what happened." And then she looked up. Her eyes met with his and were filled with an amount of honesty that can only be truth. Her face was set in a single emotion, no twitch of other feelings slipped over its surface to work against the goal of understanding. She meant every word that she said. And somehow, even Captain Hook could see that. "Really." She finished.

He backed away a few paces, lowering his hook completely. For a moment, everything was quiet. And then he nodded curtly. "I can see that. But next time, I wont be so easy to forgive." This time it was her turn to nod. "Good." He said. Then he locked her door and slowly went up the stairs. On the way, he noticed something from the corner of his eye. A single lamp set right by the bars. The one he had forgotten down here, but had never retrieved.

But for some reason, he never stopped to get it. He decided to let her keep it. Because out of all the people he knew, she was the one who truly needed light. And maybe he was sick, but for some strange reason he... _cared._

He tried to shake off the feeling and went back to work, the letter still in hsi pocket adn her story still ringing loud in his brain.

* * *

**Okay, for anyone who's confused about the whole sudden affection thing from Lillie, don't worry. It will all be explained soon. No one can hate someone in the morning and then want to hug them after just a few hours. It just doesn't work. So keep reading! I promise it will get good! P.S. too anyone who wants to know, this story's isnt a romance. Good. Glad I could clear that up!**

**R&R!**


	26. Genevieve

Affection was never really her thing.

As a child she was never given it. Her father had walked out early and her mother was so abusive that sometimes she even forgot she was her mother. But children need affection; it's a part of growing up. And sometimes, even when a child is unaccustomed to it, or at least refuses to accept any form of parental affection, they somehow always long for it.

Telling her story again brought back every bad memory she had. She had tried to dull the pain by pushing back the memory's so far that they would never be seen again. But many people, although they try very hard to forget, never really forget. Everyone has a photographic memory. No one really has no memory. Anything can trigger memories. A sock. A paper. A story. Some people who have the gift of a strong memory can never store anything like other people. That's what makes them different. Not the ability to remember. But the ability to never have to remember.

Lillie didn't have that kind of memory. And truthfully, she never really wished she did. Once in a while she would wake up and seem to forget her pre-life. And she was fine with that. Of course, she would remember later. But that was later. And she focused on now.

And in that moment, everything that had been pushed back had been remembered. The hitting, the torture, the unkindness, the longing for love and the longing for acceptance.

_It was all Hooks fault._ She thought remorsefully to herself. _If he hadn't made me say that stupid story, I wouldn't be here now._ But she was there, crying and alone. She hated crying. It made her feel weak. And he had gone and made her cry. _In front of other people too! _She remembered the looks on the pirate's faces as the tears spilled over down her cheeks. Some looked sympathetic and others looked sad. But most of them just looked mortified. She could just hear their thoughts as they worried, _Oh God Oh God OHGODOHGODOHGOOOOD. SHE'S CRYING! _Those looks were the worst.

The sympathetic ones were the ones she always hated. Some people loved them. That look when the other person's eyes slowly widened in sadness and their posture drooped. They looked ready to cry for you but not much else to give their so called "support".

And Lillie was sure that most of the time sympathy was a trick. That's why most of the time she NEVER gave sympathy. The very idea of tricking someone to believe she cared? It was awful. And if she did care, she wouldn't just give a look. She would _do _something about it. Sure, the other day she hadn't been able to do anything but apologize for Hook's loss. But what else could she do. They were no where near the school that was in question and she was sure that if she hadn't said anything she would be at the bottom of the ocean by now, her throat slit open and leaking out the red syrup. And dying was not in her agenda at the moment.

But she would have rather right now, as she sad on the ground of the cell with the tears still falling. She was leaning against the wall facing the bars and staring at the golden orb of the gas light. It shimmered and rippled over the walls. A few days ago that would have been the best thing in the world for her. But right now, as she sat staring at the light, it was the worst. She had seen him look back and stare at the glass dome. It's fire had been very dim at the time and was impossible to really miss. And he never missed much. He had _let _her have the light.

It may have looked like a nice gesture to someone. But Lillie had seen his face. It didn't look sad or sympathetic, thank God. But his eyes were yelling to that light, casting it a glare and telling it exactly what it had done. It was as if the light had ruined everything. No human had changed the fate of personality. Just that light. It's flickering glow seemed to be a symbol of extreme hardship to him. It had teased him after he had turned his back on it, ready to let her keep its comfort and survive another night alone.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Captain Hook stood in his room then sat in his red chair with a sigh.

Because even he didn't like to be alone.

He may have kicked out people multiple times, and other times may have wanted to keelhaul every person on the ship, throwing them to their watery doom.

But he had many nights where he wished he had been back in England. Where he wished Peter Pan had never happened. He had had a good life and he had never changed much through it. Always the same man. Unchangeable, but whose job it was to change you. Sure he had had a good life. He had never been very happy through it. But he wasn't generally a very happy person. There were only two times he had ever been happy.

Whenever he was on water.

And when he had known Genevieve.

He had met Genevieve in a tavern late at night. It had been a quick meeting. Just a few words, some giggles on her part and hopeful flexing on his. And afterwards they met frequently. He learned about who she was. She was twenty-five and the daughter of a rich merchant. She hated books but loved umbrellas. And she never walked in the rain. She hated the rain. She was the opposite of him in every way.

And somehow, he fell in love.

He loved how she wore the big dresses and always carried a parasol with her. She never wore any color other then blue, saying that, "ladies should keep their options limited, 'lest they get to many ideas." Women, in her terms, should never get ideas. She was surprisingly boring, always agreeing with him, but always looking bored at his questions or statements.

But he still loved her.

He loved the way her sausage curls brushed her shoulders. She loved how daintily she sat as she sipped her tea or chocolate. And he loved the way she had said his name. _Captain _James Hook. She always extended the title Captain, saying that "if you have a title it should be drawn out, 'lest it should sound unimportant and be waved off." She never had much else to say about him then his name. But, then again, she never had much to say at all.

Maybe it was the call of the sea that drew him away from her. Or maybe it was the fact that she had hit him with her umbrella that day when he had asked if she wanted to take a walk on the beach. "Women," Genevieve had told him, "do not walk on beaches, 'lest they look improper and sand should get in their spats." He had debated for quite a while why they had pated ways, finally deciding that it had been the umbrella.

They wouldn't have been happy together though, he figured out one rainy October evening. On a night like this he would be out on the sea, as he was getting ready to do that minute. But Genevieve wouldn't have allowed it. "Women," he could almost hear her saying, "should not be on the ocean, 'lest they should fall off. And then I would surely drown if that happened, because women are not supposed to swim, 'lest their dresses got crinkled and wet."

In the end, he decided it was for the better.

But he still did miss her occasionally. His family didn't really take that into consideration though, hoping to make his life as miserable as it could be. That's what they all spent time doing, not being the perfect family. And just to peeve him, though they did sorely deny it, they named his first cousin Genevieve. And then his next cousin, her daughter was named Genevieve. And it went on and on and on. And what made it worse was that his family, though very dysfunctional, was one of the most highly regarded aristocratic family in England, and it had been that way for century's. Everyone had to learn to be proper. And when the girls learned to be proper, they acted just like Genevieve.

He flipped through some books to take his mind off that girl. He was over her, completely, that's for sure. And now he had to focus on things he actually cared about. Like sailing his ship and killing pan. As he went across his room, scanning all the pages quickly he saw an illustration of two pirates sword fighting. He smiled fondly. He loved sword fighting. The thrill of the kill, the feeling of accomplishment as he finished off the victim, his opposed. He chuckled as he thought of Genevieve and all of his cousins, the Genevieve's that came after. They would have disapproved of sword fighting completely. He had never seen a girl, or a woman for that matter, swordfight. Not that they could ever be better then him or any of his pirates. But it still peeved him, the way they treated _everything _he did. They didn't have to lecture him on it or tell him what he's doing wrong by sword fighting. They don't even have to try. But a little bit of support, or even better to just _ignore _it, would be nice.

Then his eyes flashed as the idea sprang into his head.

And now he knew what he was doing tomorrow. He was going to help that brat down there. Not that he was going soft for her. But instead he was saving her. Because no one should end up like Genevieve.

Then, smiling, he went to go create a lesson plan.

* * *

**Oooooh! What's Hook going to teach Lillie? Guess you'll just have to wait. And don't worry people, the next chapter will come much faster then this one took (sorry ****) But to clear up any questions that any of you might have….**

**Genevieve and Hook are **_**over!**_** Besides, that must have been, like 100 years ago (he's in Never Land, remember?)**

**2. He is NOT falling in love with Lillie. She is WAY to young. 'Sides, he hates her (although he is starting to hate her less ****!**

**If anyone has any ideas of what should happen in further chapters (things he teaches her such as steering a ship of firing a gun) just tell me! I'll listen to all of them, and if it's really good I'll use it (and credit you of course!)**

**Okay! Hope you all liked this chapter. Oh and just a few more quick things!**

**Lillie: Ug. Will you just shut up already? God! You talk forever!**

**Me: (mumbling) no wonder Hook hates you. And how did you get here? Aren't you locked up or something?**

**Lillie: I can hear you know! And I snuck out of my cell. It's so easy to do!**

**Me: Fabulous. Glad to hear it. Now will you let me talk?**

**Lillie: Sure sure. I have to go anyway. Oooh! I found worms in the kitchen! It was sort of gross! But guess what I used them for?**

**Me: I don't know? But listen, I really have to get back to the-**

**_Hook_: AAIIIIIIIIIII! WHO PUT WORMS IN MY BED?**

**Lillie: Oops! Guess that's my queue! I have to get back before he suspects me!**

**_Hook_: LILLIE! YOU SCURVY BRAT! I AM GOING TO SLIT YOU OPEN AND MOUNT YOUR HEAD ON MY WALL!**

**Me: See! You're the only one he would suspect! And I think you had better hurry. He usually follows through with his threats...**

**Lillie: True, true. But it was fun to do anyhow. (Scurries away)**

**Me: God she's annoying. Anyway! As I was saying! I DO NOT own Peter Pan or anything like that. I just own Lillie.**

**Lillie: You don't own me! **

**Me: HOW DID YOU GET IN HERE! (Sigh) And I'd also like to thank all the reviewers. Oh, and if you think this is some sort of farewell, don't. There's still a whole lot in store! (Like 50+ chapters lol)**

**See you at the next chapter! **


	27. Fight Me!

Sorry it took so long!

Anyway! I need suggestions of ways to show Lillie **sowly** becoming a child. Remember she was held back so much her whole life. First locked in a room, then in an orphanage, then on a mostly deserted island. She's had it rough adn never truly got to be a kid. The problem is, while she may be mature she is still a child. But slowly, as time foes by ther chidl she truly is starts to come out. She's as naiive and innocent as the lost boys and Peter. But she still keeps her maturity (personally I think it adds to her charm!). She had enough maturity and commen sence to know right from wrong, to be able to make better choices (though she doesn't use that very much) and to know more then Peter ever will or would about the world and life and basically anything else (if you havent noticed, Peter's pretty closed minded about maturity and making decisions). Read the chapter and you will know what I'm taking about. So just leave suggestions, I read them all and if I use one I will be sure to thak you!

* * *

The sun shone in the wide grove. Seas of grass swished when the wind maneuvered through it. Birds flew overhead, echoing their calls through the towering mountains that rose in the distance. Small butterflies touched the flowers that dotted the field, there were hundreds of them. Hundreds of flowers, all in small groups, scattered across the field. They created a pastel painting, all different colors and sizes. Their sweet fragrances perfumed the air. The sun hung strait overhead and made mirrors of light off the petals. No clouds were in the sky. It was hot and dry. And it was perfect.

And she was in the middle of it. Her feet were bare on the cool dirt, the only part of her shaded by the long grasses. She was wearing a white dress, not unlike a chiton. The wind whipped her dark brown hair teasing it in the air. And her dress blew around in the wind. She felt like if she jumped up, she could float away. It was tranquil and peaceful. But it was lonely.

She stood; listening to the birds and watching over the pastel world she was in the middle of. She wondered if she was alone. If that was so then this perfect world might not be so perfect after all.

She stood for another minute, battling her conflicting emotions. She looked over the field and saw something. It was something moving, too big to be an animal, but not so big enough to be a plane or automobile. In fact, it looked like another person. A slow smile spread on her face and her eyes sparkled, as they tended to do when she was happy. The person was walking, not towards her, but to the other side of the felid, keeping the distance between them far but constant. Never getting farther or closer.

She tried to call out to them, tried to get their attention, but her voice wouldn't come. In a burst of desperation she jumped up and down, waving her hands above her head with furious energy. After a few seconds the figure stopped movie. It turned and she could just see the flash of eyes directed to her. The person waved, and then motioned for her to join them. She smiled again. And then she started to run. The thoughts in her head were jumbling around. Melting to form one large coherent idea. That she would not have to be alone anymore. Because something about that person was so familiar. But she just knew that when she ran to them she would have the perfect life. A parent who loved her, who cared for her and who never let her go. Then thought struck her as the figure came closer and closer into view. It's mother! She thought. She came back to me! She came back! We can be happy together! And just as she was about to reach the point where you can finally make out the person, finally see whom they really are… the sky talked. It was strange. The sky isn't supposed to talk. But it did.

"Wake up!"

Huh?

"Wake up you scurvy brat!"

She took one last look at the figure, blurred by distance. And then she woke up.

o 0 o

With a scream from being startled she fell off the bed. _Perfect. Now my leg hurts too._ She thought. She looked around.

The first thing she noticed was that she wasn't in a field of long grasses or flowers or sunshine wearing a light dress. She was in a dark cold cell, held out by bars and covered in a red coat. The second thing she noticed was a pair of shoes. Then she saw legs. Then she saw the hook for a hand. And then she saw who it was standing outside her cell. Big nose, long hair, sharp eyes, perfect moustache and a large hat. Not to mention the hook. Just the person she wanted to wake up to.

"Oh good, your awake." He snarled. He must have been trying to get her up for a while.

"Yeah well I am now." He looked at her for a moment then unlocked the cell.

She stood in the floor, still wearing the awkwardly large coat and then slowly moved forward. She may have been rude to him. She may have always acted nonchalant around him. But in truth she was one of the most careful around him. She was smart, and from experience knew just how dangerous he could be.

She made sure the distance around them was spaced and she wasn't close enough to get her with his hook at the first swing, for precautionary reasons. But her eyes stayed so focused on his face, trying to find any type of clue, and on his hook, cautions for a strike at her throat, that she didn't see his hand go to his sheath. In a flash he had whipped out a long bladed sword. She let out a small shriek and stumbled backward. Her eyes scrunched up tighter, waiting for the blow of the sword on the thing skin of her neck or maybe to plunge into her heart. But nothing came.

She bravely opened up an eye.

And was surprised to see him standing there. He was looking at her in the strangest way, like he was trying to figure out what was wrong. _Like he doesn't know. _She told herself. _He's just making me think his guard is dropped._

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" She asked, slightly annoyed. "I'm getting away from the weapon."

"What weap-. Oh. This." He raised the sword a little and watched amused as she backed up a few steps.

"YES THAT!"

"Sorry, me dear. Not today." He understood what she had thought. And he wasn't the least bit sorry for scaring her. Her anger flared. Was he just teasing her? Making her more and more paranoid until the day he finally did inflict the deadly wound. That was until he twisted the sword around, holding it gently by the blade and pointing the hilt to her. "Take it."

"Excuse me?"

"TAKE. THE. SWO-"

"OKAY I GET IT!" She grabbed the handle and held the sword in her hand. The steel was heavy, and at first she found herself weighed down by the disproportion. But after a minute, she found a position where she could carry it with out to much trouble to the deck.

"Alright then. Follow me." He began to walk up the stairs, not even bothering to bind her. She just stared at him. Did he really trust her enough to carry a weapon so close to him. He knew that she could kill him. He knew that she probably wanted to kill him and escape. But he had trusted her enough not to. Shaking off a strange bubby feeling in her chest, she followed him up the stairs.

o 0 o

The sun reflected of the of the steel blade she carried. She squinted in the sudden change of light on the upper part of the deck. It was a perfect day. Warm, bright, sunny and not a cloud in the sky. The water glittered, hundreds of emeralds and sapphires on top of a moving field. The island stood out like a sore thumb, seeming to float between the sandwich of the ever moving ocean and the constant sky.

She continued to follow him, keeping her eyes on the mesmerizing scene in front, while in her peripheral vision keeping an eye on his ruby coat.

And then he stopped. She looked around. They were in the middle of the lower deck. Pirates were bustling around them, still looking a bit awkwardly toward her after her recent breakdown. Hook turned to her and retrieved his own sword that had been leaning against a mast. He pointed it at her.

"Alright, fight me."

She stood there for a moment and she swore that in that moment her draw dropped to the ground. She had trouble finding her voice, but eventually it came back, weak from shock.

"What?"

"I said fight me."

"No. No it's okay. I heard you. I'm just trying to wake up."

"Wake up?"

"Yeah." She looked at him with hopeful doubt. "This is a dream right."

"I assure you this isn't a-"

"And I'm gonna wake up soon, right?"

"No. Its not a-"

"Oh God, please tell me this is a-. OW!" She exclaimed as he came over and thwacked her on the head.

"NO THIS IS NOT A DAMN DREAM!"

"Are you sure?" She asked, rubbing the back of her head.

He raised his hand again, aiming for her face. "Do you need another reminder?"

"NO! Nononononono! I'm good!" She stammered through a desperate thumbs up and fake smile.

"Good." He raised the sword. "Now fight me."

It took her a minute, but she finally raised the sword, bending her knees until the transfer of weight was comfortable and she could hold the sword to a high enough height where she could actually fight him. She raised the sword with much difficulty, ready to strike when-

"Wrong."

She looked at him confused and dropped the blade. "What?"

"That's wrong. Hold it like this." He demonstrated how to hold the hilt, lacing it around but keeping it under the hand guard completely. She mimicked everything he was doing. At first she was clumsy, but after a few tries she actually started to get the position he was showing.

"Good. Now when you're facing an opponent, what do you never want to do?"

"Um… let them kill you?"

"No. Give them an opening. If you let your guard down once they can attack you. Keep your body BEHIND the sword at all times. Even if you do draw back to stab them," He lunged backward a bit, acting like he was about to stab the mast. "You never allow the hilt to pass beyond this point." He held out his hand, holding it parallel about two inches from his chest. "Okay, now you."

"Me what?"

"Pretend your going to stab someone."

She mimicked what he had done, bending her front leg and straitening out her back leg. And just like he had instructed, the hilt of his sword never drew back farther ten two inches from her body. He watched her, and she could tell from his eyes, he was looking for anything wrong in what she was doing, any excuse to reprimand her and lock her away for the rest of the day. And she also saw the annoyance in his eyes when she did the same thing he had done perfectly.

"How was that?" she asked, trying to keep her smirk down.

"Your form was all wrong." He replied, sounding annoyed. She let the smirk show and watched happily as he glared at her.

"Alright. Now lesson two."

And for the next five hours he taught her everything and there was no other noise but the bustling crew and steel clumsily hitting steel.

o0o

Smee was not a man of surprises. Everything was planned and known ahead of time. It was what he loved, knowing. And not knowing when something was going to happen was nerve-wracking. And even worse was the surprise. Not knowing what would happen was one thing. There was a possibility that everything could be changed. But when you're in the middle of a perfectly normal day with no surprises ahead and a surprise leaps at you, it can make the day very annoying indeed.

It just so happened that today was going to be normal. Smee smiled as he walked up the stairs to the deck. He knew exactly what was going to happen today. It was 1:30 right on the dot. That meant he was going to go tell the cook to start preparing lunch. _Wait, there is no cook. _He didn't worry himself too much though. The Captain had most definitely taught the girl how to be a mother by now. It had been a few days, and a few days with the Captain would definitely have broken her.

He did feel bad for her. No person should have to endure the Captains wrath. But as the time had gone by, while his sympathy had not faltered, he had started to get exited. A mother would be a wonderful thing for the crew. And that girl could definitely use the idea of motherhood. After what she had endured a better experience would be good for her.

He clomped up the steep stairs. The small crack of light from the door cut through. It reflected off his glasses and cast small orbs over the walls. He squinted and moved his head to get out of the lights way. It was a nice day, that was for sure. Any time a day is bright in Never Land, you know it'll be a nice one.

He reached the top of the stairs and stopped for a moment, running through his list in his head.

Get lunch ready

Captain's Haircut (he had needed a shave, and this time he was sure he wouldn't cut off his head. That had been bad)

Mop the deck

Sweep the deck

Lookout for the crocodile

Lookout for Peter Pan

Organize the Captains maps

Lookout for the Crocodile

Fix the plank (it had been squeaky lately)

Lookout for the crocodile

He smiled happily again. Perfect. An entire day planned out. And if he followed his schedule exactly, then there would be no problems. And he always followed his schedule. Adjusting his spectacles and then placing his hands on either one of the handles he got ready to face another planned afternoon.

He opened the doors to face the deck…

And he almost fell backward. Something fast shot past him. He caught himself on the doorframe before he could fall back down the stairs. He got up, leaning over to see what it had been when something else shot past him. Again he was almost thrown back and again he caught himself before any real damage was done. He adjusted his spectacles and pulled down his shirt. His afternoon had been ruined. He had been hoping for a surprise free day. Instead he had been surprised the first second he walked up to begin his afternoon duties.

He adjusted his spectacles again and looked to the direction the fast blurs had gone. At first it was hard to see anything in the bustling of the crew, who for some reason were trying very hard to move out of the way of something. But his ears found the target quickly.

Steel hitting steel became the obvious clue. He turned in the direction of the upper deck. And what he saw was his second surprise of the day.

Smee had seen swordfights before. He had never been in one. And frankly he never wanted to be. He could hardly aim a pistol. But from his observations he knew that the Captain was a very good fighter. Of course Pan was a hard target, but when you fly you have the advantage. But never before had he seen anyone who could not fly match up to Hook.

But right that minute, as he watched with amazement, that little girl who was no more then thirteen or fourteen years old, fighting Hook with the skill of an experienced fighter. But he knew that just the other day she couldn't fight anyone. And now she could win anyone in a joust. It was amazing to watch. She was less experienced then the captain, that was for sure. Sometimes her foot would make a small clumsy mistake, or she would allow a small gab to form in front of her throat. But besides that she was excellent.

Part of it was her speed and size. She was so short, 5 foot 1, possibly 5 foot. Much smaller then the captain was. And she cold move quickly and gracefully.

But the most intriguing part was her eyes. They held no fear. No sign that she was fighting to the death. Her eyes sparkled with joy and excitement. And for the first time Smee saw a glimpse of a child. There was no doubting it. This girl was **no** adult. She was mature, that was for certain. She knew about the miseries of the world. And sadly there were reasons for that. But in those few minutes, the child she had never been truly allowed to be came through. And Smee started to believe that the girl had never truly been happy. Because that look on her face wasn't one of sadness or adulthood. It was the face of a truly happy child. And for a minute he saw the person she truly was. A small girl, who was as much as a child as Peter Pan, making her just as innocent and naive and… childish. But she had just enough maturity in her to make decisions with care. Yes, she was her own kind of child. One who was just as smart as she was playful. And she had never truly gotten to be that.

To put it in simpler terms, this girl was not an adult. She was a kid. _And for the first time_, thought Smee, fondly, _she had truly been allowed to be one._

**Okay! Well… sorry for the late update. I've been busy. Midterms are coming up and all! But anyway let me give insight to anyone who doesn't get it. Lillie is a kid! She was always a kid! But no one let her be. And for one, when she's sword fighting. A little bit of that kid was coming out. So, sneak peek into the next chapter. More into the sword fight! And someone's getting a haircut.**

**Lillie: I hope its Hook. Is it Hook?**

Me: No. No it's not Hook. It's you.

**Lillie: WHAT! But that's not fair! And I was just starting to be happy!**

Me: No, not really. You were just beginning to become a kid again. You had been oppressed for so long that the kid you really were hid. But it never disappeared. It just got held back until it could finally be released!

**Lillie: God your corny… Oh and can we skip the haircut? Pleeeeeaaaaaase?**

_Hook: *Whispers* Don't skip it. It is going to be rather amusing!_

**Lillie: OH COME ON!**

Me: All right everyone! See you soon!


	28. The Deadly Barber

**Sorry for the late review. I have a lot of tests this week! Alright. If anyone has any suggestions about what should happen next please tell me! The more the better. And whoever does gets cookies!**

_Clang_

_Smash_

_Cling_

The faux battle on the deck of the ship was growing in intensity. It had started out simple. Just stepping forward, backward and too the side. She had to learn to hold the sword with just one hand and make it seem effortless. Showing him she was weak was not really her plan. And she wanted to show him how good she was for no other reason but to beat him. Because as much as she hated to admit it, he was good.

Some things about him added to the challenge and made it slightly unfair. His height. Her head only reached his stomach. His legs were very long and could take larger steps then she could. And he had had more practice at handling a sword. Never before had she picked up a weapon. She had never really needed one before. Just her speed was enough to counteract most attacks. And when her speed couldn't help her, her size could. _And right now_, she thought as the idea hit her, _I have both._

Soon after that realization the heat of the fight rose. She picked up her speed, prancing out of the way and sprinting gracefully around the part of the ship they were using. And she used her size to weave in and out of attacks.

But soon he caught on, raising the standards And after a while they were no longer just in a sword fight. They were in a fight of who could be the best at outmatching the other in speed and skill.

Their swords hit and sparks flew. It was fourth of July on the deck as the noises and explosions of connecting medal flew across, dodging past crew members too reach the other fire cracker.

Lillie flew past a few of the crew that she knew, giving all of them sympathetic smiles as the buckets they were holding fell upon the decks, spraying sudsy water all over. The captain came past a few moments later, almost slipping on the now soapy wood.

"Woaah!"

He skid across the deck on his heels only to fall backward a moment later. He sprang up, pointing a finger at the men. "I'll deal with you later, ya slobs!"

And with that he ran off once again after the girl.

o 0 o

Lillie's feet never stopped running. For the last few days she had been restricted to just a cage. An isolation of darkness and medal bars. But now she was… She hated to say it. But she was… free. She let out a little bit of a laugh, experimenting the feeling of happiness once again. And she was disturbed to find that it didn't feel all that awful. It should have felt terrible. She wasn't truly free after all. But up here, running in the open air and sunshine, she couldn't help but let herself get lost in a pretend feeling of absolute glee.

She ran faster, feeling like a blur. She must have been close to one because she ran past a few pirates, including Smee who had just been walking up the stairs, and a lot of them looked dazed. Smee almost fell down the stairs. He felt bad until the heavy steps of the captain began to catch up. She picked up the speed, if that was even possible and jump over a low railing onto the stairs leading up to the higher place of the ship. She stopped in the middle and stood, waiting to face her opponent.

He rose over the steps, a wary villain, ready to strike, but cautious to see the results. His face was stern, his stance was deadly and his sword was even deadlier. But his eyes, she observed, held nothing in them to show of plans against her. They looked happy and slightly playful.

He inched forward slowly, sword raised to strike. She inched backward slowly, sword raised to defend. They stayed like that. Both barely movie, barely breathing, waiting to see who would make the first move.

It turned out to be him.

He lunged forward with the sword. She struck and forced him back a step or two with her weapon. Then she turned to run.

That is, she would have run, if it were not for the wave.

Everyone has a feeling called the wave at least once in their lives. You could be anywhere. In a crowded area or in an alley, where the only company is shadows. And then a feeling of something being wrong will pass over you. The nerved will tingle, beginning down your neck and then bubbling down your spine. You feel watched, but your alone. You feel cold but its warm out. Its unnerving and right when you feel it you know something's changed.

Lillie felt it. And directly after she felt the wind from the blade of a sword cut horizontally by her neck, close to the skin.

But it never cut her.

She let out the breath she hadn't realized she had been holding.

Then she paused something wasn't right. She turned around to look at Hook. But the strange thing was, he didn't look smug, or dangerous. Actually he looked surprised. His eyes were full of shock and strangest of all, he looked a bit apologetic. Smee must have heard the awkward silence above because his head came into view as he came slowly up the steps.

"Captain? Are you alr-" And there it was again, that shocked look an their faces. Now both of them had it as they stared at her.

Her heart pumped faster. Had he slit her neck? Was there blood running down her shoulders? She placed her left hand delicately on her right shoulder, now having lowered the sward still clutched tightly in her right hand.

Nothing.

She sighed in relief. All she felt was her hair, coming a past her shoulders, just like it always did. She smiled a little, and then pulled her hand away… only to find that her hair came with her. And just one strand. A huge chunk of strands.

For a moment she stood there staring at the pieces of hair. Then she let them fall and watched them touch the ground. They fell slowly, only stopping to land on a pile of hair strewn in front of her. She touched her head. What used to be long slightly wavy dark hair that fell elegantly past her shoulders was now a short crop that hardly reached her chin. He had cut it off when he had swung the sword at her.

She touched her shoulder again, collecting more pieces of hair and holding them in from front of her face between two fingers.

She looked at Hook.

Then at the hair.

Then at Smee.

Then at the hair.

Then back at Hook.

And then she screamed.


	29. Fights, Fires and Overall Direction

"YOU CUT OFF MY HAIR!"

"It was an accident. Don't be so silly about it."

"SILLY! YOU THINK I'M BEING SILLY ABOUT THIS?"

"If you really want me opinion, yes. Yes I do think you're being silly about this."

Lillie's ranges of emotions had surprised the Captain to the point of confusion. First she had screamed. Then she had gone into another stunned silence. And then she had looked scared. And now she was actually angry. At him! Him of all people!

He continued to look at her. She was fast to become angry at him, and even faster at having the will to yell. It was very uncommon, usually he was the one who did the yelling. Anyone who challenged him didn't live very long. But she had the audacity… no. She had the _nerve_ to speak to him in such a manor. And somehow it amused him to no end.

"Think of it this way, me dear. At least it wasn't your head that came off."

She was silent for a moment. He could tell she was going over everything in her head. He really did theink she was being silly. It had been just an inch of hair he had cut off. no wait. Maybe it was 2. Or 3. Or maybe it was 7. Yeah. It was possibly 7. But it didnt look _bad_. Actually it looked rather good. If you pretended that it didnt look so choppy. But it brought out her face more, that was sure. And it made her look a bid more dignified but at the same time she looked even more innocent and childish.

But at the moment she didnt look innocent and childish at all. Her eyes were thin slits, boring holes into his clear blue ones. Her mouth was set and her stance was stagnate. She wasn't going to bend. Not for anyone. And especially not for him.

"Or would you rather have it that way. I can do two cuts in a day." He rose his sword, smirking. Maybe some threatening would do her some good. The anger coming from her seemed to heat the atmosphere surrounding them. He smiled wider. He could almost see the red glow coming from around her, lighting her up in a dangerous way. There was a sparkle in her eye, but not the kind that happens when one is happy. It was the kind that you only see when someone is truly angry. The kind of sparkle which could be perfectly compared to a dagger shining in the sun, glinting when it hits and bounces off.

She was trying to keep calm, he could see that. All of the anger was being transferred to her hands, now balled up and white from pressure. All of her hate and all of her words and all of her thoughts were being transferred to those five fingers, all trying to keep everything there by holding on as tight as they could.

She walked calmly, still keeping her hands tight, over to her sword. Only then did she release one of her hands. The red glow deepened in color. The captain smiled again. He knew where this was going, and he couldn't wait. He slowly placed one hand behind his back and bent his knees.

Smee stood in the back ground, now just a fixture, an ignored piece of furniture. And he would have it no other way. He had seen the captain become murderous. He had seen the glares with no other meaning but death. But he had never once seen anyone come close. And Miss Lillie, she came pretty damn close.

Her sword was raised and all doubts that she had ever had disappeared, no matter what they had been. He saw that now this was all that was there. And this was all that mattered. To her, it was just she and Hook. Nothing else existed.

She raised her sword a little higher and Smee backed up just a bit more, keeping himself out of the line of fire that he knew was coming. She took a fighting stance and placed her one clenched hand behind her back.

"I," she said, keeping her voice even and low "I… am going… to kill you."

And then the real fight began.

o0o

She had never really had a chance from the beginning. Even she had known. She had fought incredibly well. But he fought stupendously well.

Incredibly

Stupendously

They're very different, and one is better then the other.

So naturally as he was dubbed stupendously, he was better. And she, as it was already said, had known. But what's the harm in trying?

But once you break down the two words, they aren't THAT different. Stupendously may be _better_. But that doesn't mean that incredibly is _bad._ Overall, the fight that happened between the two on the deck over the loss of a few inches of hair had been the longest fight to date. Usually fights only lasted 5 minutes for Hook. Sometimes less.

But those fighters never faught stupendously. Nor did they fight incredibly.

Just fairly.

Or sometimes just bad. But those never lasted very long.

But the fight between incredibly and stupendously lasted a whopping 17 minutes and 23 seconds.

17 minutes and 23 seconds.

And by the end of it both the girl and the Captain, the land dweller and the sea dweller, the mortal enemy's, incredibly and stupendously, were feeling every part of that 17 minutes and 23 seconds.

By the end the girl had gone a bit faint from running for such a long time and looked ready to collapse at any time. She had never been pushed so hard in her life, never motivated by anger to work as hard as she had. And although the Captain was an experienced swordsman, he had never had such a challenging opponent, and was starting to cramp.

It was a hard fight.

But it was incredibly versus stupendously.

And in the end stupendously was the one to win.

Lillie continued to run across the deck. It had begun with her chasing him. Now it was the other was around. She was exhausted. And it hadn't even been 20 minutes. But she had been training all day, and to top it off anger can be exhausting. Not the feeling, although it does take some out of you. But what comes after the anger. The attacks. The will to continue fighting. And the will to never stop.

But that will comes with the consequence of exhaustion by the end. But the thought of exhaustion scared her. If she gave up, she was open season. If she allowed her brain to take over, there was no doubt that he would take his chance. And her brain was screaming for her to stop. To sit. To sleep.

Stopping would be bad.

Sitting would be worse.

Sleeping would be risking her very life.

So she ignored the persistent nagging and ventured forward. If she could just find a spot to hide. And spot at all, she could rest. Even for a minute.

Looking frantically she stared at a mast far off. The sun had long ago started to set, and now the shadows were more prominent, taking they're places to start their show of spreading and dancing across the ground, forming shapes and changing objects by elongating or shrinking them. It became darker, hidden by the lack of light and presence of shadows. She hid her sword somewhere to hide ever piece of evidence she had ever been at all, and then sat with her back pressed hard on the opposite side of the mask.

She closed her eyes for a minute.

The red and gold pastel of a sky brushed her face, warming it with the last of its heat before it would become dark velvet and cold once again. The colors danced and glowed, giving her the same effect. And if you had watched for just a moment you would have seen Fire Time. Only in Never Land do they have it. And it only lasts a second each day.

The sun rest on the water, just about ready to sink down into the depths of the unknown. The moon lays just below the unknown, ready to spring above and condense itself into the sky's cool palette. And right when the sun and moon are both touching the surfaces of the water the sun gives off one last shot of energy, releasing every bit of the light and the magic and the warmth in one singular pump.

And Never Land does more then glow in the orange light. It sparkles, and it dances and it burns with a fire that is not even there.

And at that moment the deck was lit up. The wood became bars of gold under the light. They gleamed and sparkled and became radiant. The sails glowed and the ship glowed and the whole thing became a mass of pixie dust illuminated by something other the magic and the prospect of flying into the dark soft sky as it had so long ago.

And then that moment ended. And the moon rose to join the stars that were clearly etched and pinpointed in the dark sky. And the shadows took over and the darkness won it's temporary battle as it did every night until the sun finally rose again and light would win again and day would come.

But one little girl missed that moment. The little girl asleep on the deck.

But if she had been awake she would have seen the power around her. If she had been awake she might have marveled. And if she had been awake she might have heard the footsteps advancing toward her.

The Captains shoes moved delicately across the deck, moving forward to where he knew the girl would be hidden. He rounded the pole silently, sword at the ready. And he almost tripped over her.

She did no more then stir, but he backed away all the same. He looked down at her sleeping form, exhausted by lack of sleep and over exercising. She looked tired and frail and innocent, just as she had right before anger had taken over.

He bent down, placing his sword delicately on the deck, and scooped her up, just as the night of her attack. And very carefully he began walking her back to her cell.

When he had finally locked the door and had given one last look at the girl before going back up the stairs his mind began to wander. And it thought the strangest things. Stuff that, just a few days ago, he would haven never even tried to think of.

_What should I teach her tomorrow?_

He stopped in his tracks, going over his thought. Strangely it didn't feel odd. Just new. He had never had anyone that he could teach anyone too. Sure, she was his victim and his somewhat hostage, but that didn't mean he couldn't help her pick up a few things while she had her time here. Or at least while she was still alive. He shook his head, banishing the thought. The contract on her head would come later. Life was delicate after all. And it is very easily broken. Killing her would be easy. So it could wait.

What he found strange was the fact that he _wanted _to wait.

Convincing himself it was nothing he reached into his pocket to find his cigar holder. Whenever he was in distress or confused or sad or anything of the sort, a good smoke always helped. It was his 'picker upper' one may say. Although he knew it was a very unhealthy one and quitting would do him some good he reminded himself that personnel help would come first. Then personal health.

He reached in his pocket, but instead he ended up pulling out his golden compos.

Popping it open he watched as the needle turned as he walked, facing north all the time. Never confused and always in the right directing. Sometimes his best dreams were of him as a compos.

He turned it in his hand a few times. It had been a gift from his father. And his father made sure he never forgot it, especially by engraving

_Don't you dare put me to shame_

on the back. His father had been a charming man.

He watched the needle turn some more. He had been through so many things with this compos. His first treasure hunt, his first ship maneuver, his first time trying to find ships, his first time charting and drawing a map.

And that's where the idea came from. He clicked the piece of metal closed and dropped it back into his pocket.

_I know what I'm going to teach her tomorrow!_ He thought happily.

Then, whistling and no longer in need for a smoke, he marched up to the deck and back to his quarters. If he was to deal with this girl again, he was going to need at good nights sleep.

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**And that's what I got so far peoples! Good? Bad? You tell me! I am always ready to listen. Oh, and can anyone guess what hook is going to teach her the next day?**

**Cookies to whoever guesses it right!**

**P.S. I will most probably be updating tomorrow!**


	30. Crashes and Compliments

**OMG PEOPLE! CHAPTER 30! WE DID IT! Okay, honestly I never thought I'd make it this far. But here I am at chapter 30! Oh my gosh! Wow. Chapter 30. And the sad thing is, I'm not even halfway done!**

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Pirates were men of the sea. They lived in harsh conditions. The braved storms and loots. And sometimes they had to go through battles, some so bad that the sky seemed to burn in the flames below, setting the clear blue roof into a blazing red canopy. They braved through it all, and all without a complaint. Pirates who complained, you see, were not pirates.

But sometimes tests would come. Tests that were placed conveniently in times when these pirates were not ready. And then the tests of who was a pirate and who wasn't would begin. Some were fierce, huge waves would destroy ships around them and come close to ripping apart the fabrics of time and space itself. Some simple, gathering enough food for a few months, and knowing what food to gather.

And today was one of those days.

It had started off as a fairly normal day. The seas were calm and quiet. The gulls seemed to have decided to sleep in, so no birds chorused in the early air. The sea, emerald and deep, was crashing against the side of the ship as the wind blew, fierce and strong. But all silently. And the cool air carried by the harsh wind contrasted the days heavy heat nicely.

The schedule had changed somewhat in comparison to what used to happen on the ship. A few weeks ago, the pirates would be up and would have been performing their duties on deck. Then some breaks would take place where they would sit and drink rum and throw daggers at a horribly drawn stick figure of their captain, but in their minds it had been the captain.

Now it was all still partially the same.

Except that instead of sitting around throwing daggers they sat around… happy. The new edition to their ship was doing wonders for their spirits and their lives. She had only been around for a few short weeks. And yet she was the best thing that happened to them. They would actually watch the captain in anticipation, waiting until he would check his pocket watch and go down the steps to retrieve the "scurvy brat". And now that she came up unbound, she never appeared being tugged forward or moping. Instead she almost sprinted up the stairs, a huge smile bursting and spreading across her face as soon as she hit the sun.

And as soon as they saw her, the same effect seemed to take place.

This morning had been no different. The crew waited. The captain went. And she appeared at the top of the stairs, getting there before even the captain. She had smiled and waved at the crew, all of whom were happy to wave back, and then she rocked back and forth on her heels, waiting for Hook's arrival.

That had been two hours ago.

The captain had taken her off for a new lesson. None of them knew what it was to be, but it must have been good, because the captain seemed to have been awfully exited about it. They had overheard his discussion with Smee while he played the piano. It was choppy, some of it hidden by the occasional booming note. But they had picked up snippets of it.

"_I really think it will do her some good!"_

"_Hic- Of course sir."_

"_I mean, it did me some good. And look at where I am today. Running me own ship!"_

"_Of course –hic- sir."_

"_And I really think that teaching her to… will help her. Not that she'll be living much longer. I still do have that contract tied to her life."_

"_Sob-hic- It's a blooming-hic- shame!"_

"_Smee, that's me duty to kill her. Captain Hook always keeps his word."_

"_Hic- of course-hic- captain."_

"_Smee… is this you talking? Or is the alcohol?"_

"_What- hic- alcohol?"_

All they had picked up was that whatever he was teaching her would be good for her. It helped the captain get to where he was. And Smee was drunk.

They had talked about it for a while, all debating what it could be.

But their questions were answered when the boat almost hit a rock.

Everything on the ship, boxes, crates, barrels, weapons and even the crew slid to the left side of the ship, now lower then the right side. Then it happened again, the sip tilted too much causing everything to go to the right. Sailors were hanging on to the sides of the ship in fear of their lives. Others were frantic to tie down everything they could, saving the essentials first, things like rum and gunpowder. And they were all looking around in confusion. It was essentially a very calm day. So what could have caused the ship to almost overturn like that?

o0o

"YOU ALMOST CAUSED THE SHIP TO OVERTURN!"

"IM SORRY!" Lillie gasped, still in shock. The captain had spent two hours teaching her the way to handle the wheel. How to turn against the wind and how to work with the wind. And then he had put her to the test by sending her strait out into battle.

She had protested, not wanting anything to go wrong. But for some reason he had enough trust in her to let her handle the wheel all by herself.

And it led to one disaster after the next.

His plan had been once round the island. She would have to do very little, other then an occasional turn of the wheel and a brief check of water depth.

He had known about the tasks to conclude this "mission".

What he hadn't accounted for was the fact that this girl was the definition of uncoordinated. She may have been fast at learning how to handle a weapon. But a ship… that was something she didn't just pick up.

"TURN! NO, NOT THAT MUCH!"

"WHICH WAY?"

"WHICH WAY DO YOU THINK?"

"Umm…" she turned it a little bit to the right, towards the island.

"NO! I THOUGHT AT LEAST THAT WOULD BE OBVIOUS!"

"WELL, IT WASN'T!"

They both took a deep breath. Hook pinched the bridge of his nose and drummed hi fingers on his side, wishing he had his piano so he could slam his hand on the keys until his bones broke. Maybe that would calm him down.

"Okay. Let's go over it again. What degree do you turn the wheel to do a slight turn?"

"Umm…" she racked her brain for a moment. "Between 5 and 30 degrees."

"Good, now what about a half turn?"

"Anywhere from 30 to 90."

"And hard turn?"

"90 to 180."

"Perfect. So why cant you drive the bloody ship?"

"I don't know! I've never done it before you know."

"Really! I couldn't tell!"

She glared at him and backed away from the wheel, not anxious to try again. She had caused enough disasters for the day.

"Oh no you don't. Get back here!"

"But-"

"Don't start. You are going to drive this boat if it kills you!"

"Why?"

That made him stop. "What?"

"I said why. There's no real reason for me to be driving the ship. I'm useless as a mother. I already know that. You would have kept on giving me those lessons if you wanted me to do that job. And I know that there's no reason for me to be here. I cant be a hostage. Peter would never save me if he knew all you wanted was information. And we all know you want information."

He had never thought of that actually. He _could_ have held her hostage for information on pan's whereabouts. But she was right. He would never give up that information, even for her. He would probably just take her by force. It was a useless cause.

"And you still have a contract on my life." She continued. "So, there is no real reason to be doing any of this, is there?"

"…" He was lost for words. She was right. There _was_ no real reason for any of this. And now that he thought about it, he didn't really know why he was doing it. He guessed that he just wanted to teach someone something. He had never had that type of responsibility before and it made him feel good. Not powerful. Just… appreciated. He would have been doing this if Pan had never cut off his hand, he would have been teaching students at a school. Of course he would never get that chance, but this was close enough.

"Try it again." He stated flatly, deciding not to answer her question, there was no point anyway. He didn't even know the answer. She sighed, the anticipation of hearing the answer gone. But to his surprise she did once again take control of the wheel.

"Alright, now lets go over this again. 30 degrees left is more or less then a half turn?"

o0o

_Somewhere on the island Peter and the Lost Boys were playing Treasure Hunt. They figured that first they would find it, and then they would go off and find Lillie. She had missing for quiet some time now. They hadn't really been worried at first. In fact, they weren't really worried now. Sometimes one of them would go missing for days at a time. This was the longest disappearance. But Peter Pan never worried. And he wasn't going to start now._

_Some of the lost boys had just gone to search skull rock. It was a place frequently used to store the treasure. They entered the opening to the cave, winding their way through the dark passage until they reached the cliffs end. Overlooking the bay stored in the cave, they scanned the small rocks for any sign of the treasure. _

_Nothing._

_With a sigh of defeat they all turned to leave the way they had come. And then the cave shook._

_No. It did more then shake. It moved. Something large had hit the side hard, Rocks fell from the caves ceiling and went splashing into the water. Small ripples branched out and hit all sides of the sloping cave walls. The water shimmered, disturbed by the temporary action and then lay still. The lost boys looked around confused. What could have caused that?_

_One lost boy by the name of Slightly took a moment to regain him self and then peeked over the top of the skulls eye. A ship, Hook's ship, had just veered away from the rocks and was going back out to sea. It was swerving quite a bit, something that never had happened before. But of course lost boys prided themselves in never worrying for something too long, and like the lost boy he was he simply shrugged it off._

_But if he had not been the lost boy he was he would have not shrugged it off and would have kept watching. And he would have seen the small girl holding the wheel for her life. And beside her, the infamous Captain him self. And just maybe, they could have found Peter and they could of saved her._

_But he was a lost boy._

_And so nothing was mentioned._

o0o

The ship still swerved slightly now and then. And a scrape of the bottom hitting sand was not uncommon. But she was sailing. Honest to God sailing. The Captain stood behind her, a guard keeping a constant watch. His arms were crossed and his posture was stiff. But his mouth held the smallest bit of a smile. And his eyes showed a strange pride.

Lillie on the other hand was still freaking out. But now it was more of a silent breakdown. Her hands stayed on the wheel of the ship and were turning white from pressure. Her jaw was stiff, as were her eyes and mouth. She was terrified. Never before had she been allowed to do something so enormously centered on her not messing up. Never before had she been handed the amount of responsibility. And never had she received the vast amount of pressure and fear that came with it.

And to top it off, it was a _perfect_ day for sailing, which made it worse for her. The amount of wind hitting the sails was so great that sometimes it seemed like nature was handling the boat and not her, although she would have gladly allowed nature to take over, Hook was fiercely against it.

"You control the ship!" He had said, noticing that she was starting to let the wind take the ship where it pleased.

But as the time passed steadily so did her anxiety. The swerves began to get lesser and she had passed a good amount of the island without hitting a wall or water inhabiting tree. And it had been at least fifteen minutes since the man standing behind her had said a word, but she took that as a good thing.

Soon after she even started giving orders. But not before sending a tentative glance back at the Captain, who just gave her a nod of approval. She had given him a large smile and looked away, more comfortable in addressing the crew with demands. But she did miss the stunned look on the Captains face that had only lasted an instant, but had come because of that one smile directed towards him. And when it disappeared he was once again the Captain he had been just a moment before her face had lit up.

After a few hours they finally pulled back into the pirates lagoon. Hook had to pry the poor girls hands off the wheel. And when she finally did release her fingers she stumbled backward, happy to be relieved of duty's so large in proportion.

She held onto the side of the ship for a moment, hesitant to look down at the water that still scared her so much, but needing a break. She closed her eyes, taking in a few deep breaths and calming herself down. _I am never, _she told herself, _driving a ship again._ The Captains footsteps echoed through her head and she looked up.

"Good job today." Was all he said.

She stared at him for a moment. "What," she whispered. "What did you just say?"

"I said good job. I didn't know that was uncommon."

"Really! You mean it!" She broke out of her shock into a burst of bubbly happiness.

"Umm… yes me dear. G-good job." He suddenly seemed to remind himself of something and added quickly, "Not that I care."

"Oh." She didn't seem too disheartened by his words.

"Now. Back to your cell."

She stared at him for a moment more then nodded and walked down the stairs. As she descended further and further into the darkness she couldn't help but cover up a feeling of happiness. He had tried to cover it up, yes. But a compliment is a compliment. And she had never received one before today.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

"What is wrong with me?" Hook paced back and forth around his room in frustration. It just wasnt fair! He wasnt supposed to have dillemas like this. He was Captain Hook! He never had second thoughts to anything! So why was he now. It was strange, a few weeks ago this girl would have been dead in the first few minutes. And now... He thought back once again, remebering that way she had lit up over just a compliment. Or that smile she had given him, like she looked up to him or something.

And why, today, was he proud of her? She took control of the ship by herself and he had felt enourmous pride towards this girl. He had wanted to jump up and say, "Yes! I taught her that!" But He held himself back. Because Captain Hook does not feel pride for children. Captain Hook _loathes _children.

"Then why can't I kill her?" He had begun to realize that everything he taught her had become less of a chore and more of a delay.

"That's it!" He told his piano. "Tomorow I kill her!" Then he played a few notes and stared at the keys agiain and siged.

"Maybe."

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**So why cant the Captain kill her? Any ideas? Stay tuned for tomorows lesson!**

**Oh and guess what that is. Heres a hint!**

**I spy with my magnified eye...**

**If you get it I'll say how awesome you are in the forward of tomorows story!**

**K! See you soon!**


	31. Bad Dreams and Hot Drinks in the Dark

**Hi everyone! Wow! Chapter 31! Did anyone think we'd get here? I sure didn't! Well anyway, sorry for how long this one took. I hope you like it though. It was a lot of fun to write.**

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_The field was covered in poppy's. Thousands and thousands of crimson bulbs scattering the green waves of grass. The sun shone on the ground and made all of the poppy's shine. She took in a deep breath of air, trying to inhale the smell of fresh, real, perfect life. Her feet touched the soil, hot and grainy. She wiggled her toes and watched as a large carpenter ant discovered her big toe, but left it alone. There was no quiet in this place, it was full of sound. The light was loud. The colors of the trees and grass and flowers screamed. And birds, blue and grey, small and large chirped choruses of appreciation for the day's blue sky._

_Spheres of light hung from the clouds. Rainbows cast off of the cumulous and stratus. The trees that surrounded her in a sort of circle were waving furiously, trying to be the first seen in their fiery greeting. The wind picked up and her hair danced in it's gently tugs. Her long hair. Her beautiful, dark, __**long**__ hair. She played with a strand, missing the feel of the length wrapping around her index finger. _

_She took one more deep breath. _

_Perfect._

_Some ways off there was an opening in the trees. She stared at it and squinted at it through the glare. She remembered this from somewhere. But where. Was it a dream she had had. Was this a dream. Oh please let it not be. She stared longer, waiting for the figure she knew was coming to emerge from the mouth of the forest._

_And then the person came. Gliding as if on air. Clad in red and walking down the path. She held her breath. That's mother. That was her mother. She knew it had to be. The dark hair so similar to her own. The glint in the persons eyes that she had only seen in one other person. It had to have been her mother. She waited fro the figure to see her, too call her over with a wave of their slender arm. She placed her hands by her sides, eager and suppressing the urge to bolt herself. She wanted nothing more then to run into her mothers arms right now. But she had to wait. It would be better when she saw her mothers arms open first, the welcome given directly, proving she had never meant any of it. Proving she still wanted to hold her only daughter and child close to her and never let her escape her world again. _

_And so she waited for the arms to open._

_Finally the figure stopped. Just like the other time the person face was nothing but a blur, still taken away by distance. Lillie grabbed her dress, ready to take away that distance as soon as possible. Her eyes grew wider and wider, waiting and waiting for the person to see her. But the person never did. They kept walking and walking._

"_Mother!" No response. Only dust from the kicked up heels on the road. "Mother! Mother! Wait for me! Please wait for me! Please!" She began to run. And run. And run. _

_And her perfect world began to evolve. The clouds darkened, blocking out the sun. The trees whistled by the wind that now threatened to blow her off course. But she pushed on. The soil, which once had felt so good on her bare feet, cut into her soles and small rocks cut her feet. But she kept going. Faster and faster she went. The tall grasses blocking her way and slowing her down to the point where she was no longer running, but swimming in a sea of arms and sorrows. _

_Hot tears hit her cheeks as she tried to reach the figure. She was so close. So close. She could almost see the figures face. Almost see her mother for the first time in years. She reached out, stretching out every finger in an effort to grasp the chords bound to the persons heels and pull them back. But no such chords existed, and so no progress was made._

"_Mother! Mother, please!"_

_But the last sound she heard was the heels of the figures shoes as they walked down the path and into the forest once again._

_The field became silent and foreboding. The grey clouds were still above her head, but now were stationary as the wind was no longer moving, allowing silence to fully do it's job._

_She stood in the grasses and then untangled her feet, preparing to walk way. She took one last look at the trees before trudging through sea once again. Then she heard it. It wasn't clear at first. But it was definitely there._

"_Lil-"_

_She listened harder, trying to catch another sound of that voice._

"_Lilli-"_

_There it was again! She turned swiftly, attempting the obstacle of plants just to get to those trees._

"_Lillie!" And there it was. Clear as a bell. _

"_I'm coming mother!" __**Don't leave me. **__She said to herself silently as she pushed on. _

"_Lillie!" And then the figure emerged from the trees once again; there face was so close. She could almost see her mother. Almost see that it truly was her mother. Lillie's arms spread out for balance and then just to fly. She wanted to be able to fly right at that moment. She wanted to sour to her mother. She watched the person slowly raise their arms. __**Yes!**__ And then the figure opened them wide, and opened then for her. She ran faster, ready to run into those arms and never emerge from the binds of loving arms._

_Something grabbed her. She looked behind but she couldn't see anything. She cast a pleading look at the figure. _

"_Mother help me!" The figure didn't move. They simply stood with their arms still wide open. "Mother please! Please help me!" Nothing. She was being dragged from the last thing she had and all she would ever want. _

"_Stop it!" She screamed at her captor. "Stop it now! Let me go!" But whoever was dragging there continued their job of increasing there distance between Lillie and her dream. "Stop it!" She screamed again, fresh tears falling. "I need her! Let me go to her!" There was no reply, but the sound of her screaming and feet dragging on the dry dirt. "Let me go!" She was fighting now as the hands griped her shoulders. They proceeded to shake her/ "Get off me! I need to get to her!" She tried to run but was pulled back again and shaken more._

"_WAKE UP!" The capture screamed at her. "WAKE UP NOW!" And so she woke up._

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As she was getting her mind to fully register the situation she became sure of a few things. For one, as soon as her dream ended and the figure clad in red, her mother, faded into the distance, the shaking continued. Her mother was lost to her, but the violent movement of something on her shoulders didn't cease. The second thing she was aware of was of how loud she was. Now that she was waking up, or so she presumed she was doing, she could hear her own voice still pleading to go towards the woman, simply because she _needed_ her. But never before had she heard her yell such things. It might have been embarrassing had she have been actually aware of what was going on.

She was not.

And so no such feeling ensued.

And the third thing she was sure of was the heat. Water, hot and fresh, sat on her cheeks and down the front of her dress. It was warm and soggy and when a few drops hit her lip they were surprisingly salty. She tried to calm herself down enough to wipe away the tears. It took a minute but finally whoever had been shaking her stopped, seeing her eyes open, and allowed her to catch her breath. Still shivering she clean her face of the tracks and look up at the person. She almost fell of her seat.

She had been near Hook many times. And every time that she had been near to him a weapon had been drawn. Never once had she seen him without one while sitting so close to her. He looked confused and a bit… scared. It was puzzling to her. She wiped her eyes dry once more for precautionary reasons and then looked back at his face. She gave a tentative smile.

"Hello."

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" he hissed, all other emotions now masked in anger.

She glanced around. "Do you?"

"Yes. It is barely 3 in the morning, and yet here I am awake because someone wouldn't stop yelling."

She felt her cheeks grow hot at that. How long had she been yelling? She was sure it had only been at the end. But since he was complaining she guessed not.

"Sorry."

"That's all you have to say? Sorry?"

"Well, what else could I say?"

He was silent, thinking it over again. And then he gave up searching for an alternative reply. "So why were you screaming?" he asked her, straitening up and dusting the lint off of his coat, which she saw clearly covering his nightclothes.

"Umm… no real reason."

"Oh please. No one screams like that for no real reason."

"Then it was a nightmare."

"About…" he pressed on, trying to get as much out of her as possible. She wondered for a brief moment if that was what it was like to be interrogated. "I don't remember."

He let out a sigh and dragged his long fingers down his face. "Well, at least my crew didn't make up. They never get any work done if they don't sleep." His eyes brightened at a thought. "Speaking of which, you get to sleep. You have a… um. A big day tomorrow." He didn't want to mention the fact that he planned to kill her. That would have had him up the rest of her life with her howling.

He tuned to leave when he felt small hands grip his arms. He cast his eyes down to meet hers. She looked at him with an expression of begging and pleading etched in her tear stained face. "Please don't leave me alone." She whispered quietly. "I don't want to be alone. Not right now."

He looked at her with a look of pure confusion and surprise. His mind sped up and slowed down again and again as he went over her words. She didn't want to be alone? And, most importantly she wanted to be with… him? No one had ever needed him like that before. HE felt some sort of sympathy for this girl. He tried to push it down but it continued to rage inside of him, threatening to take over his mind until he did what it said. He sighed again. He found himself sighing a lot lately.

"Alright. Come on." She jumped up, her hands still latched on to his large arm. He looked down at her and rolled his eyes in annoyance, but made no move to remove her. He led her up the stairs, past the kitchen, and up all the floors until they reached the deck.

It was dark outside. The sky, emerald in the night, held dark sunken in clouds. The stars held heavy in its forever, the long stretch of deep blue that looked so different in the light. In the day the sky was bright and friendly. At night it gave the feeling that one could float away into it. But once the person is enveloped in its pull, they never return, sucked into darkness and long cold nights.

The deck was hard to navigate on at this time. He had discarded his lamp long ago, not thinking he'd need it for long. But now he saw that he wished he had brought it. The masts and chests and canons and other objects blended into the dark backdrop. And more then once did he have to quickly veer away from something that would lead both him and the brat falling over onto their faces.

He looked out past the edge of his ship. Even the island disappeared into the dark. After a long stare at the horizon a dark silhouette of a mass of trees could be seen. But nothing more. And the water below him was not even there. He wasn't sure how far the drop was at night, even when during the day he saw it all the time.

She followed him once again, always latched onto his arm, and staring distrustfully at the midnight sky.

He led her over to the upper deck and sat her down in a chair. She held onto his sleeve, her eyes still pleading. "I'll be back in a moment. Now let go."

"Promise."

"Promise what?"

"Promise you won't leave."

Hook almost choked. What had she said? Promise what? _Promise you won't leave._ Her words stayed stuck.

"Promise you wont leave." She said again, more insistent now. Her voice was still quiet and quivering. He gently removed her hand.

"I promise." He said. "And Captain Hook never breaks his promise."

She seemed to consider it and finally decided to trust him on keeping his word. She curled up on the chair, resting her chin on her knees and tightening closer to herself, almost as if trying to protect herself from the world and the sky around her. He watched her for a moment and then went off to the kitchen. Very quietly, so as not to disturb anyone, he heated up the kettle on the stove and took out a mug. In one he placed a tea bag. And in the other he placed a few blocks of dark bricks, something he stored away from the crew at all times.

He looked around the cupboards until he found a small canister of cream. Then looking up the stairs he smiled to himself. _She had better appreciate this._

About fifteen minutes later he was walking back to the table where she still sat, the same as she had been before. He was carrying one mug in his left hand and balancing the other in the curve of his hook in the right. It was risky, but he was sure it would work out. Placing the two cups down he slid hers toward her and sat down on the opposite side of the table. He took a long drink of his tea. _Mmm._ He thought. He hadn't drunken that in a while.

The whole time he was enjoying his tea Lillie sat in her chair looking down at the mug like it was a puzzle. There was nothing she could see in the cup. Or what was there was covered by a mass of white. It was strange. _How are you supposed to drink this,_ she asked herself, _if you can't even get to the drink? _He saw her puzzlement and decided to intervene.

"Anything wrong?"

"What is this?" she asked. His mouth almost fell open.

"It's hot chocolate. You've never had hot chocolate." She shook her head. "Well then, I would drink it now."

She picked up her cup and tried to take a sip but was stopped by the obstacle of fluffy white. Hook could have laughed. "its whipped cream." He explained.

"How do you drink it?"

"You don't really drink it, per say. Just… try to eat it."

She did and ended up getting the sugary cream all over her mouth. She wiped it off quickly and tried again, this time actually succeeding in getting a sip of the hot chocolate, as well as a mouthful of whipped cream. She looked down at the cup again, but this time like it was magical.

"Oh wow." Was all she said. "Oh… wow!"

"A few minutes later her cup was downed and her face was clear and brighter.

This time hook really did laugh. "Good, isn't it." She nodded enthusiastically. Then he seemed to remember something and his face went dark again. _What am I doing? Stop being considerate towards her!_ "Well," he looked at his pocket watch. "It's about time for me to head to bed. I'm going to lock you in your cell first though." She looked at him in fear, still not wanting to be alone. _Stay strong Hook. _He told himself. _Stay strong. _

"No. Get down there now. Or would you rather walk the plank instead." Something about his voice said he wasn't kidding and she scampered down the stairs and out of sight.

Hook watched her leave and put his face into his palm. What was happening? It was all so confusing. He was supposed to hate her, Destined to hate her. And now here he was. Not hating her. It wasn't that he liked her. But he was beginning to not mind her. Before she was a prisoner. Now she was becoming a part of the furniture, normal and seeming to belong. She groaned inwardly and then out loud, knowing what was coming next.

He couldnt kill her.

Not yet.

And that fact was just killing him inside.

So grabbing both cups by the handles on his hook and then finding the right keys, he went down to her cell to lock her in.


	32. Blue

**Okay, I have to say, the last chapter was one of my worst. I really wasn't all that happy with the way I wrote it, although I did love the idea. So to make up for it I did this. I liked this one actually. IDK why, I just like the way I wrote it. Maybe you'll disagree, but hey, that's why I put it up right. Criticism is good!SO anyway, here's chapter 32, just some old memories from Lillie's past. **

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The idea of being alone after a nightmare had never thrilled her. She wasn't usually a girl who loved company. She didn't _hate_ it. But it wasn't as if her life revolved around who was around it. She usually focused on her needs. They were simple needs, nothing fancy or expensive. Just needs that would help her survive. That's how she always had been. As long as she survived then everything would be fine.

But after nightmares she felt as if she couldn't survive. And that feeling, the feeling like she was helpless and scared and useless to herself was one of the worst.

She curled up on her bench in her cage, staring around the dark in fear. Memories hit her like waves whenever she was in this room.

After nightmares even she would go crawling to her mother in a panic, making her way through dark hallways covered in creatures that were merely tables and lamps and avoiding monsters that were nothing but shadows. It was ridiculous that she was like that. After all of that time still becoming scared of nothing but dreams. But she was. And she was positive that none of that was going to change soon.

Of course going to her mother for help after nightmares was still something she questioned herself about. Why on earth had she done it? Why had she risked her freedom, the few times it had been given to her, for something that was no more then a bump in the night. And after years she still didn't get it. Some part of her still says that she should have never gone. Se should have never snuck into the room so late at night. Never opened the door to those blue walls and that high bed.

God how she hated the color blue now. It had been her mother's favorite color. And she had painted her room blue. Lillie had used to get help from her in that blue room. And now she was having nightmares, almost all of her worst ones had blue in them. Not sky blue. Deep strangling blue. The blue that is so deep it has no end. The blue that grabs at your throat and makes it tighten. The blue that scares small children when they walk outside at night and that blue sky holds no stars and the moon is gone. That blue that is tears and monsters and the ocean. Maybe that's why she hated the ocean. Or at least one of the reasons. All of the reasons were because of her mother. And the color blue was no exception.

On nights where the fear gripped her and all the sounds were stirring and the darkness branched out its thorny fingers, reaching for her, then and only then did she brave up against the color blue. She would open the door and stare into the dark room. Dark from the shades drawn and no lights on and that blasted color blue. And then she would sneak in. Her feet made small sounds on the carpet. The blue as blue can be carpet. She would reach the bed. It was a large bed. Big enough for two. But her mother slept in it alone, as Lillie was sure she would for the rest of her life. Maybe because her mother had the inability to love.

Or maybe it was because the bed was blue.

Whatever the reason, Lillie would find herself at the bedside. Every time she would hesitate. There wasn't one time when she didn't hesitate. When she was with her mother one of the things she found herself doing most was hesitating. She probably used up most of those miserable years hesitating. But it never stopped her from acting. She would tug lightly on her mother's nightshirt. The sleeve would be stiff from a recent dry clean. And it was strait and neat without one wrinkle. And it was blue. Her mother had a thing for neatness. Everything about her was neat and stiff. In fact, Lillie still wondered if her mother went and got herself dry-cleaned. And her sheets that she slept under were the same. Neat and stiff and tucked neatly around her mothers bony tiff body. And those same sheets were blue.

After a few tugs on her nightshirt, her mother's eyes would crack open. She would flutter them for a moment, letting the sleep out. Or perhaps she was helping them adjust to the blue. She would flutter her eyes and then she would roll over. Somehow, as she rolled over the sheets never even got a wrinkle. Her mother had that ability. She could move and move and move but never get one wrinkle. Her mother would roll onto her side and stare at the girl.

Lillie would always hesitate when her mother looked at her. It was never a good thing when her mother looked at her. Her mother looked at her and she could see right through those dark eyes. Her mother's eyes surprisingly weren't blue. But they were dark. Dark and endless. They had movement in them and emotions in them ran deep. Some days when her mother was upset she could see them clouding over, dark deep bitter clouds swarming in those dark brown eyes. When she was angry her eyes would flash as the thunder rolled and then lightning crackled. And it was all in her eyes. When her mom looked at her she made an effort to look at her with as much hate and un-forgiveness and… blue, as she could. And she made Lillie hesitate.

And those nights when Lillie was scared, she hesitated again and again when she saw the lightning flash in those eyes. Some nights she could see nothing but the clouding. Others she swore she saw the zigzag's of electricity spike and hit the eyelashes. But whatever weather her mother's eyes took, she was always caught in the storm.

Sometimes it wasn't bad. Some nights she was locked in the basement. Of course this was never good. It was cold and dark and smelled like mothballs and must. Her mother smelled like that. Maybe it was from traveling to the basement so much, taking Lillie there and picking up the scent as she did. Lillie never picked up the smell. But her mother did.

But some nights after nightmares Lillie would find herself locked in the dark basement. Those nights were terrifying. They mirrored her nightmares exactly. They were nightmares about monsters and demons. Some nights the monsters and demons did nothing but come. Others they surrounded her, coming closer and closer until she was captured by her worst fears, circling her like haws. Some nights they chased her. Those were bad. She was never fast enough. And even if she was they caught up. They always caught up.

But her worst nightmares of all were nothing. Simply nothing could scare her. Usually it was just looking into the dark. The nightmares where she was looking into the dark were the worst. There was nothing near her, at least she didn't see anything near her. But she never knew when she was in the dark. And sometimes the dark was colors. No. Just color. Sometimes she was surrounded by that blue.

God how she hated that blue.

And when she was locked in that basement and all she could see was the darkness it brought her back to all of her dreams. And she suddenly felt like monsters and demons were hiding in the untold pockets of black and blue.

She hated that basement almost as much as she hated blue. Most of her time alive was spent locked in that basement. And if not in the basement, then at least somewhere near by. Sometimes a closet, sometimes a shed. It never mattered to her mother. As long as they were dark and had a lock they were all the same. As long as she was able to teach her daughter a lesson for something she had never done. Her mother liked to believe she did things. And when she protested then she had actually done something. She could never win with her mother. She couldnt even cheat. Because cheating was wrong and gave her another reason to be punished.

And even after being locked in the basement she still went to her mother after a nightmare. Because as much as she hesitated and feared for the worst, she needed someone. Some part of her always believed that her mother could change. _Would _change. And she believed that she would change for her. But then the basement would come, and yet her hopes never vanished, even though a small part of her happiness and courage and love did.

Other times when her mother had no time to put her in the basement she went to the second choice. But Lillie never gave up hope. Even after she lay on the cold linoleum floor of the kitchen, shivering and bleeding, she never gave up. Even after the beating and the scratching and the pain was killing her she never gave up that her mother loved her. Even after she had cried so many blue tears that she was stunned she even had any left, she still kept hope. Because her mother was all she had.

Of course her mother _was_ all she had until she dropped her off at that orphanage. It had been a cold Tuesday afternoon. It had just rained and puddles, freshly disturbed, shuddered on the cracked sidewalk. She stared up at the building, still dripping from the recent downpour. The first thing she noticed about the building was that it was tall. The second was that it was blue. Every brick and every window was painted that same deep midnight blue.

Oh how she hated that blue.

And then Peter had come to save her. It had been late at night. The lights had been off and the window was open revealing the dark blue sky. And then he stepped through. He flew in, crouching low on the windowsill. He came up to her and asked her where Wendy was. She had told him simply that he had the wrong window, for there was no one called Wendy in the orphanage. He turned to leave, but not before asking what an orphanage was.

She told him it was somewhere for children who never laughed. And it was for people who were left behind.

It had taken him a minute to absorb it. Then he had stood starait, a knight in shining armor, and stared her strait in the eye.

"Then you will come to Never Land with me!" He had proposed. "It's a place where all we do is laugh. And no one's left behind. And there are no grownups."

She had drawn back at that, shielding her arms away from his reach. "I can't go." She had said. "I am waiting."

"For what."

She thought for a moment. What was she waiting for? "I am waiting for my grownup to come back and for her get me." She sniffed, nose in the air. "So no thank you."

"Where is your grown up? Where did she go?"

Lillie had stopped at that. Where had she gone? Why had she left and would she ever come back. Her arms loosened and she shuffled her small feet on the ground, not looking up from them. "She will come back." Was all she mumbled.

"Doesn't look like it to me. Now come to Never Land."

After some persuasion and a promise to come back once a year to see if her mother truly had returned, she agreed. They clasped hands, preparing to fly out the widnow and into the dark night. But when Lillie looked at him she almost said no. He was smiling at her with a smile that said they had been friends for ages. And not only did his mouth smile. But so did his eyes. And as she looked into his eyes she wanted to back away and say no to everything.

Because his eyes were blue.

Blue that is so deep it has no end.

Blue that grabs at your throat and makes it tighten.

Blue that scares small children when they walk outside at night and that blue sky holds no stars and the moon is gone. B

Blue that is tears.

And monsters.

And the ocean.

And her mother's favorite color. The color she put in her room and on her carpet and on her bed.

And now in Peter's eyes.

It was so painful and hard to look into his eyes and stare at that blue. So hard to imagine that those blue eyes could somehow hold storms in them as well. They were the kind of blue you could get lost in, and that was what she was scared of. She didn't want to get lost in blue. She didn't want to spend her hours trapped in basements or bleeding and cold on the shiny tiles of the linoleum floor. She didn't want to be chased by nightmares into a darkness that held so many lies and fears, she couldn't even count them.

She didn't want any more to do with the color blue.

"What's wrong?" Peter asked, breaking her from her reverie. She looked at him again, avoiding his blue eyes.

"I just don't-" she looked back at the room she was standing in. It was cold and dark like the basement. And the floor was shiny like the linoleum. And she had roommates with tempers and eyes that created storms. Her own nightmare was the life she had been given. And all in this one room. She looked back out the window at the blue sky.

Even if it was blue, it was big and open.

She looked at Peter again, who was giving her a confused look. "I just don't… have my book." She ran back to her side table, grabbing her copy of _Pride and Prejudice_. And then she took Peters hand and looked into his blue eyes and nodded. She was ready.

The two of them took off into the blue sky, Peter dragging the flightless Lillie with him. As they began to sour higher Lillie had looked back at the building she had just left. The blue building. And she suddenly didn't miss it much any more. She looked away and back in front of her at the midnight blue sky, keeping her eye on that one shining yellow star. Even if she hated blue, yellow was okay.

She still had nightmares about blue. Even in Never Land. And when she woke up from those she still had no one to talk to. No one there would understand.

She curled up on her bench some more. Giving her mind a rest. Thinking about her past was always hard for her. Even if it was simplistic. Only colors, it seemed. Blue. That had been the bad color. Yellow had become a sort of fine color. It had been the color of the star. But not even Never Land with Peter had been a fully joy filled experience.

She sighed, placing her head on the wall. But earlier this night she had finally been helped. It had been the last person she thought would help her. She had hesitated, when she had grabbed onto his coat, she had hesitated. Thoughts of linoleum floors and basements had flooded her mind.

But he had listened to her. And he had helped her. And he had stayed with her. Of course in the end his ways had come back. But even so.

She sighed, closing her eyes, trying to forget about the dark and blue. Whenever she was scared she thought of blue.

But as she closed her eyes another color popped into her head. She smiled, finally going to sleep.

Maybe red could be her good color.

Her head began to droop as sleep took over. No more nightmares plagued her mind that night. ANd she slept on peacefully.

But as she slept she failed to see the blue begain to leak into her cage, ebbing on the floor. And all the while it became deeper and deeper, bluer and bluer. And as she slept on it made silent promises that when she awoke she would hate the color blue even more.

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**So! How was it? Good? Bad? You tell me! Okay, well tomorow is Friday, so I might be able to fit in a chapter. But it takes me a while to write so who knows! Oh! And wana guess what that last part about the blue was about? Go go! I dare you!**


	33. NLAOLBAOG

**Hi everyone! Sorry this is soooo late! But I do have an exuse, if you wan't one. I wen't to Mexico for a while as a present. It was a ton of fun, but I really coudn't update while I was there (even though I did wan't to!). So anyway, sorry this chapter is sort of short. i decided to take a break from Hook and Lillie and focus a little bit on the other characters instead. Oh and by the way, as if that wasn't enoug, there will be sort of new characters introduced into the story in the next chapter. It gives you a little breather from everything else. Oh and cookies to whoever can guess what the "blue" was from the last chapter! And what do you think it will cause? Oooooh! Suspense! Alright! Enjoy!**

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England had a army. A very good one, for that matter. And so did America. And so did France and so did China and Germany and Russia and almost every territory there was. The army's protected the land and it's people. And most of the time it did a top-notch job at it. Sometimes smaller countries with less defense relied on everybody to protect and defend, following codes of conduct and books about right from wrong. And together they banned together to protect the weak and the equals.

Some may say that army's in those large countries are the most powerful. The money providing for their large weapons and high-class automobiles. But others might say that it was the smaller armies that made the difference. They might not have the same technologies. They might not have automobiles. But they stepped in front of the rest, much like the skinny boy in kindergarten protecting the honor of the shiny red toy truck from the bully who was his superior in nothing but size.

They say those are the heroes because they are willing to do anything for anybody. Because those are the men and the women who would pick up a shovel and go against those with a gun.

Many people would agree that those are the people who deserve the medals and the honor of being shown as the heroes.

And one of those people to agree would be Peter Pan. Because when he wasn't being a pirate during treasure hunt or being a doctor because one of the lost boys did nothing more then sneeze he was a general. A general leading a very small army whose only amour were their animal skins and some bent silverware and whose only weapons were a few overripe mangos.

They called themselves N.L.A.O.L.B.A.O.G, because it stood for Never Land Army of Lost Boys and One Girl. Not to mention the fact that it was tremendously fun to say. The one girl part still remained, even though that one girl had not shown her face for about a month. But Peter never worried about it too much. She was a strong independent girl. She could take care of herself. And besides, she was curious. And Peter simply thought that she was still exploring. Which was fine by him. She would be back. He was confident that she would. But until then, O.G. remained a part of their incredibly long name for their incredibly small army.

Peter piled his supplies in the corner of the room and thought about the day he had planned. He had wanted to do this yesterday. The day before had been awfully hot and sticky and nothing had gotten done on account of everyone running off to find any bit of shade they could. And besides, today was Tuesday. Or at least he thought it was. He had never known the days of the weak. Wendy had mentioned it once when she had been in Never Land. They had been taken away on a Tuesday night.

So now he tried his best to follow days of the weak as a sort of memorial of her being there. He had made sure to keep track of every day of the weak that she had mentioned. All 8 of them.

Monsday, Tuesday, Weddensday, Truesday, Fried-Day, Sittingday, Sunnyday and of course Oneyear. He had no idea what a oneyear was. But apparently there were more days in it. It was just one of those customs he would never understand.

"_After all"._ He had told her. "_There are already 8 days in the week. Why do you have to put many days into one? And for that matter, why is it called one Weak? Was the person who made it not strong? Because that would make sense, because only a strong person would do it right!"_

_All Wendy had done was shake her head and suppress laughter._

But whatever the reason, he still followed the days of the weak with as much accuracy as he could. Some days he did mess up. On one particular Fried-Day morning he had lost a treasure too Hook and that had ruined his day. So he had simply decided that if that Fried-Day could not be perfect then the next day would also be Fried-Day. And that would make up for the day before it, and hopefully, as Peter hoped, would cancel it out.

And today happened to be Tuesday, and Tuesday happened to be the battle day. A day where, in Peter's eyes, they attacked Hook. Of course, this was almost everyday, but no one mentioned it too him. Wendy had said something about it, saying how it was too similar to every other day. And because of that, Peter changed it by adding in the overripe mangos. Then it would be different.

He looked at the large pile of dripping bruised fruit sitting in the middle of the room. They had been growing on the tree outside and all over the island. Peter and the boys had picked as many as they could carry and then left them out in the sun for days on end until the skins had begun to split with the pressure of the amount of juice.

The smell of the dripping, sticky, pastel colored fruit was intoxicating. A natural perfume that wound it's way around the room. Peters arms and shirt were covered in the yellow nectar after carrying and rearranging so many. He wiped off his hands as well as he could on the front of his shirt and then licked the juice of his fingers.

After his hands were as clean as they would be he balled then up and placed his fists on his sides, as he did so often. "Troops!" he yelled. "Filed in!"

There was scrambling from all directions of the area until at last all of the lost boys stood in a line in front of him.

"All right men," Peter said, as he paced in front of his pathetically small army. "Today is a very important day. One of the most important in fact."

"Didn't he say that yesterday, too?" Cubby whispered to one of the twins. They both shrugged and then shushed him.

"Today," Peter continued, not hearing the comment. "Today we will test your skills and go into battle to fight a battle against evil, corruption and for children everywhere."

The lost boys stood taller, feeling more and more important at his words, even though they had been the same words that he had used the previous week.

"Today we fight against vegetables at dinner."

"Yeah!" All the lost boys cheered, pumping their fists in eager anticipation.

"We fight against baths and soap."

"Yeah!"

"Against early bedtimes!

"Yeah!"

"School and books about how to eat and dress."

"Yeah!"

"Today, troops, we fight the monster known as…" he paused for dramatic effect. "_THE GROWNUP_."

"BOO!" All of the lost boys chanted, resenting their common enemy with equal disgust.

"Now, most of you probably wont make it back alive." He surveyed them. "Actually, there are not so many of you, so I'll probably be the only one back alive."

"Hey!" Slightly whined. "Why just you?"

"Because I'm the strongest, bravest and best looking. I _have_ to make it back alive."

Slightly considered his words, then shrugged, deciding they were logical. Peter nodded and then continued.

"So men, although this mission may be our last as a team, who will leave this tree house with the bravery to kill a pirate?" Everybody but Cubby raised their hands.

"Cubby!" Peter whispered, with venom in his voice. Cubby immediately raised his right hand, slapping on a fake enthusiastic grin.

"Very good! Now everyone, grab the supplies."

There was a scrambling to grab as many mangos as possible.

"Hey! That's mine!" Cubby shouted as Tootles stole one of his mangos. Tootles simply stuck out his tongue. Cubby, in blind anger jabbed at Tootles, but missed and instead hit Slightly.

"Hey!" Slightly exclaimed and took a jab at Cubby, but ended up hitting both of the twins' heads together.

"What's the big idea!" They said in unison and tackled slightly who in turn tripped Cubby who knocked over the rest of the lost boys including Tootles.

It was a huge fight, but not one that was uncommon in the household. And it could be stopped by nothing until…

"HEY!" Yelled Peter. And as if by magic, the fighting ceased. And everybody was back in single file again, looking a little worse for the wear.

"Pay attention! Do you guys even _wana _attack Hook today?"

"Uh-huh!" They all said together/

"Good, then get a move on!"

All of them, mumbling under their breath, scampered out of the tree house using the multiple exits. Peter went last holding a bag full of mangos. He put his foot on the tunnel entrance leading to the great outdoors. Peter finally let his boyish grin spread across his face. "Watch out Hook!" He whispered to himself, hoisting up and flying up out of the tunnel, outside and finally out into the sky, tracking the lost boys path as he did. "Here I come!"


	34. Bill Just Bill

**Yes this is a fast update. I know. But I just couldn't resist! The thoughts been nagging at my mind for ever and I had to write it down. Anyway, a few notes before I continue and let you read. First of all, this fan fic is now open to any people to comment, even those not part of the site. Sorry it took so long, I really couldn't figure it out. And second. If anyone who is reading this is an artist, could you maybe post to deviant art? I would LOVE to see your interpretations! All right, that's all I got! Enjoy the new chapter!**

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Shadows are cast in many places. And these places don't have to be magical, like Never Land. Some other less magical and some even less magical then those have shadows. Shadows are the parallels to the world around them. And at the same time, the opposite. Formed by the light to create the shapes, but dark and drawn back, even if the rest of the world is whole and light.

Many years ago, before the English set foot on the soil of America and before Peter had his breakfast, the old ones believed shadows were of another world. Creatures, manipulating our darker feelings. And yet they were so like us. The darkest part of our souls cast upon the ground, following us wherever we went. Our bodies reminded us of whom we were. Our shadows reminded us of whom we hid.

But then the English came and Peter did eventually get his breakfast, and the old folklores were pushed aside. They were to be found and studied and soon after only read in books for entertainment. No one ever believed the stories, believing them to be just that, stories.

To believe whether the old ones, whoever they had been, were right is a matter of choice. But in the end it all comes down to point that yes, they were in fact correct.

We, though not believed by us, used these folklores, used by us for century's on end. Authors and film directors all took the ideas and twisted them until they had created one of their own. And what it came out to was that shadows were the places of the evil and the waiting. And so all of the villains began to hide in the shadows, or at least that was what the society taught us to believe.

And to say that those people were wrong would not be fair of us. Some villains did walk through society and we would never know it. They could be the women picking out the orange juice in the store and gingerly placing eggs in her cart. And it could just as well be the man who brushed your shoulder as he walked by you last Tuesday.

Villains don't have to hide in the shadows anymore, now that our idea of them has been condensed into such a slim category. But that doesn't necessarily mean that all villains _don't_ hide in the shadows. Some do. And to top that off, some do it well.

And at that very moment a villain was doing just that.

Below Never Land and below all of the rest of the jealous stars and the low hanging moon lay London. And if you went down to London, below its smoggy skies and its everlasting rain, between the large buildings and factory's spewing smoke and the lovely town houses made of fading red bricks and colored glass windows, you might find a small park.

In the day the park is quite lovely, flowers sprouting from the grass and creating borders on the trimmed outlines of the walkways and riverbed. Trees stood tall and proud, and at this time of the year were fading into their autumn coats, proudly displaying the light green that was slowly turning to the obnoxiously bright reds and golds and oranges. Birds, blue jays and cardinals would hop along the browning grass, pausing every few seconds to puncture the ground in search of a meal. Light would shine through the leaves and hit everything, making the river (a small bubbling one that was hardly worth calling a river at all, more like a puddle) sparkle blindingly and making the birds sing cheery melodies that only consisted of a few shrill peeps. And many people would walk down the pathway and soak it all in. Scholars reading their books quietly on park benches, families lying on picnic blankets, spread out below the trees on the grass. And lovers cooing softly spoken words and from time to time exchanging a fast kiss, earning a few looks, some jealous, some lovesick and some nauseated.

But it was night, so none of that was occurring. The flowers had tightly shut. The birds had long flown away. And only the moon cast it's dim light on the river, not making it sparkle, but glow in a cryptic way, reflecting the shallow craters and the soft outline. To say that there were no people present though would be a lie. Of course, not many people were there. Actually there was just one.

Though a villain, he did not hide in the shadows. He sat on a rock with a plaque on it that read;

_In loving memory of S. H. Thomson_

_All he did was dedicate a rock_

The villain sitting there didn't know what the rock said, nor would he ever know, as he was not the brightest of fellows.

For 37 minutes he had sat on the rock turning his head from side to side in order to check for anyone who may have spotted him. This was hard for him to do, being the size of man he was. His physique was highly masculine and could be described as nothing other then bulky. Muscles sprouted from all parts of him, head down. It didn't give him an appealing look, but more of a boxy type. His neck and arms and shoulders and legs and even his jaw were thick, and veins traced their way along the bulging muscles embedded not so deep within.

Yes, he was a massive man and he used it all to his advantage.

But at the moment being massive wasn't really helping him, as he could not move his head as much as he would have liked.

The man rose from his perch on the low rock and began to walk along the path, past the enclosed flowers and out of the park. His feet moved stiffly and dumbly along the pavement, his arms moving parallel with his sides. He was more robot then man, something that got him very many stares during the daylight. But it was not daylight, and many a person had already retires, and so no such stares were given.

The man continued to walk past closed factory doors, past townhouses, past fountains and parked horses and buggies and automobiles. He didn't know the directions to where he was going, but he knew the way, and he followed his internal compos as best her could.

He walked for 21 minutes and 13 seconds, and at the end of his long march down the mazes of streets and alleyways he finally found himself standing in front of a very large building.

The size wasn't the whole reason for why the building was frightening, and the building was frightening. It was run down and cracked, but still in enough order to be occupied by the multiple amounts of people. And still strong enough to hold them there. He tilted his head back as best as he could to stare at the large star, similar to those worn by sheriffs, nailed to the top of the bricks.

_Scotland Yard_ it said, in bold blue letters. He still couldn't read it, but unlike S. H. Thomson, he knew what this was. He had never spent time with S. H. Thomson (though who would spend time with a man who in his whole life only donated a rock). But he had spent time with Scotland Yard. Quite a bit of time. He had been younger then, and his appearance was drastically different. His face had become tanner over the years. He had shaved his square head. And his once sculpted face was now scared and broken after numerous fights. His appearance had stayed human, that was for sure. But it had taken on the form of a human who, while very human on the outside, was very _in_human within.

His footsteps clomped on the concrete steps, leaving ripples in the recent puddles from the daily shower. As he finally reached the top of the steps, towards the large doors he hesitated. He may have not been the smartest man, but he knew a police station and he knew that he should be avoiding it. Yet here he was walking strait into one willingly. Well, maybe not willingly. More like on a favor. Because the person who was in there, the person who he was supposed to see, was far scarier then any policeman could ever be. And the worst part about it was that he wasn't there to deliver a gift basket or a box of toffee. He was there to deliver bad news. Very bad news.

He swallowed and cleared his dry throat before stepping into the building.

The corridor was mostly empty and his loud footsteps, still dripping from the remaining water, squeaked against the tiled linoleum floor, making his presence known a bit more then he would have liked. He walked past the small doors that led to the offices and filing cabinets until he was finally in front of the receptionist.

She was a large woman with very pale skin, a large face and a large body. Her wavy, sand colored, greasy hair that went down her between her shoulder blades and across her shoulders, not even bothered to be tied up. She wore the customary in office blue button up that stretched tightly against her massive form, threatening to pop off all the buttons. Her uniform said Marge.

She had looked up at him after she realized he had been staring and she raised a painted eyebrow.

"May I help you?" She asked, her accent surprisingly southern.

"Umm. I need to see someone." He said, stumbling over the words. The eyebrow shot up again.

"What's your name sweetheart?" She pulled out a pen and held it to a small paper, and then she looked up again at the man.

"Huh?"

"Your name?"

"My name is… is…"

"Are you alright there, honey bunch?"

"I remember!" His voice lit with pride. "Mah name is Bill."

"Last name?"

His face screwed up violently for a minute, then he hung his head. "Ah don' 'member that part." He said softly.

The woman sight. "Fine then, _Bill._ Who are you here to see?"

"Anneliese Ebony."

The woman looked up in alarm. Her face was blank for a moment and her hand stopped moving on the paper. Then she found her voice again and used enough of it to just croak out, "Anneliese Ebony?"

"Yes'm"

She cleared her throat. "Baby, are you sure you want to see Miss Ebony."

"Yes'm"

She sighed again. "Alright then, but you've got to know, Miss Ebony isn't a nice woman. She's dangerous."

"I know. But she likes me."

"Honey, Miss Ebony doesn't like anyone." She leaned in closer and whispered, "Some say that she was the one who caused the disappearance of her own little girl. She beat the poor child almost to death, sent her to the hospital, she did. She denied it, of course, said it was because she tripped down the stairs. But later that week she packed up her things and sent her to the orphanage, the one on Yule Ave. And then a few weeks later the girl's gone, middle of the night her beads bare as a dessert it is. And then a few weeks after that they find the woman going stark mad crazy! She killed two people, that's why she's here!"

She leaned in even closer and beckoned to bill with a fake plastic fingernail. He leaned in closer to the glass that separated them. But if it hadn't been there, their noses would have been touching. "Now, I want here for most of this, got this job just two years ago. But everyone else, they were all here. The whole lot of them. And they said that when she was being dragged to her cell, screaming like the devil himself was after her, she said the strangest thing. _She's off to Never land,_ she said. _She's off to never land, and I'm gonna go there too. And when I do, I'm going to kill her._ Oh my lord can you imagine. Now of course, a lot of then thought she was just saying that because she was crazy. And she is, I wont deny that. But the way she said it. Louise, my coworker, she was there. And she said that the way she said it. It was like she was making a promise. And the way she said it. Even the people she done gone and killed might have believed her."

The woman shuddered again and then blinked in surprise. "But enough of me rambling! You wana speak to Miss Ebony, that right?"

"Yes'm"

"Well then, here's your visitors pass," she handed him a laminated slip of paper. "be back here in an hour. That's the most I can give you in one turn. If you need more you're gonna have to come back tomorrow."

"No. N'hours good. T'ank you Miss…"

"Marge." She pointed to the badge on her uniform. "Miss Marge." Then she pointed to her left. "It's strait down that hall and too the left. The guard will let you in from there. Her cell is fifth to the right, you cant miss it. It's the last on. Sorta a solitary confinement location.

He nodded and began walking down the hall, but as he did he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. They all knew she was crazy. They all knew she was a killer. But him they knew nothing about.

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**Okay, that's what I got. Good? Bad? Aweful? It's up to you loyal reviewers! And once again, artwork would be awesome. I was trying to draw something to get a better image, but I suck at drawing adn have generally no artistic skill whatsoever. So I was just like, okay, let someone else do it!**


	35. The Dearly Departed

**Sorry about how long this took, and how short it is! Usually I'd have it up a bit faster. And I will try to make the next one longer. So anyway, heres the next chapter!**

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Bill continued to walk further and further down the dimly lit corridor. Offices flew by as his long legs stretched out across the tiles. Obviously no prisoners were kept in such an open area. If it were so, escape wouldn't be just simple. It would be invited. Just doors that only opened with the swipe of an electrical key. They were marked according to use; break room, staff files, prisoner files, and so on.

It was so late in the night, all of the break and file rooms had been closed, and only a few rooms still held life in them. The glows of the bright yellow light added more visibility under the faint greenish tint that the few uncovered bulbs in the hallway provided.

He reached the gate, tall black bars that eased to the side by electrical power. Four guards manned their stations around the large sliding doors, two on the outside, and two on the inside. They barely moved, only their eyes cast sideways glances at him. One seemed to see him and narrow his in suspicion, as if he _had_ recognized the man. But Bill just bowed his head and flashed the visitor's pass, muttering inaudible thanks as the gate slid to the side, letting him walk freely into the next hall.

It was the same, almost. But while in the other hall it wasn't fully evident if it had prisoners or not, this one was. The doors spread no shafts of light from open windows. Instead, slices of light showed through bars that were placed close together. Some were just doors with small slots on the top. But all of them were so enclosed that they became more like cages.

Some people did occupy them, but only about two a cell. Some of them, mostly all men in this area, sat on bottom bunks of flimsy beds. A few were playing poker, gambling off hard earned cash or soap. A few were even reading bibles, but Bill saw from the looks of their restless eyes and tapping feet, that it was all an act for passing authorities. A plead to show that the leaf had been turned long ago.

Bill turned his head forward and continued to walk.

"Psst." He stopped. "Psst. Bill!"

He knew that voice. His beefy head turned to the left to see a cell. Two men occupied this as well. One, a large tattooed, bald man, was lying on the bottom bunk finding the top of the next bed very interesting, as his eyes remained stagnate on them.

The other man was a very good looking fellow. Large and muscular, but not beefy. His sandy colored hair dropped messily across his forehead and tickled the tips of his ears. He was clean shaven and sky blue eyes. And at the moment he was leaning against the bars of the cell, calling to Bill in a low voice.

"Bill. Hey Bill."

Bill looked around and then pointed to himself. "Ah ya talkin' ta me?" Bill asked, confused.

"Of course I am Bill. You do remember who I am, right? Oh please don't say you forgot."

"Okay, den I wont say it."

The man chuckled darkly and shook his head. "Samuel Bradley, from Daniel Kreet's gang."

"Uh."

"Blade?" He said, using his more common name. Bill's eyes lit up.

"Blade!"

"Yeah, Blade. Now get yer ass over here Bill."

Bill walked over, exited know to have found an old ally in such a convenient place. "Whatchya doin here Blade?" He asked, when he was close enough to be unheard by the guards. "They catch you?"

"They caught everyone, Bill. Shark, Slash, Gruesome Gill. They even caught Kreet. Can you imagine that! Kreet himself."

"They did'n catch me."

"Don't you remember stupid? They tried to!"

"Wha happened?"

"God, your stupid, Bill." He ran his long fingers through his hair. "You killed 'em. Remember? Slit their thoughts with a pen knife."

"Oh, yeah."

"God your stupid, Bill." Blade said again.

"So how'd they let you in? A big guy like you isn't easy to forget."

"I dunno. They just forgot."

"Bill, they could never forget you." Your pictures in the break room. Hung up on the wall above the whiteboard, like your some idol or something."

"I look different, don' I?

"Well, yeah." He cleared his throat. "But Bill, when you come back to coppers that want your ass sitting here in one of these cells, you try to change more then your appearance."

"Umm."

"Your clothes are the same, dummy." Bill looked down and saw that his clothes were, indeed, the same ones he had worn on the day he was almost arrested and became a most wanted in the department. He sniffed indignantly, an action that looked very peculiar on him.

"Well, they didn' remember me."

"Whatever. Hey Bill, why are you here anyway? Come to give yourself in?"

"Nah. Coming too see Miss Ebony."

For a moment it was so quiet that even the flickering lights seemed to make noise.

"Anneliese Ebony?" A nod from Bill. "_The_ Anneliese Ebony?"

"Yeah. So."

Blade whistled. "I gotta say, you got some serious guts for someone so dumb."

"Huh?"

"Nevermind. So, your really gonna see the phycho."

"Yeah."

"Oh man." Blade looked at Bill for a moment, and then just shook his head. "Wow. Not even the people here will go near her. There are more rumors about her then there are people in this prison. She's the one who killed those two people right? Yeah, I thought so. But that's no biggie here; I mean most people here are doing time for robbery. But a lot are here for murder too. But none of them are crazy like her. So what are you, her cousin or something?"

"Nah, I work for her."

"She pay you." Bladel asked, lowering his voice to a whisper.

"She's gonna. She has a plan, told me her self. She said that-"

"OH MAN! NO! God, I knew you were stupid, but never like this." Blade laughed loudly. "What was it? No. Wait. Let me guess. Does it have to do with that place? Ever Land?"

"Never Land."

"Yeah, whatever. The place where her daughter went? No wait, she didn't just go. She _flew!_"

"It's true!" Bill protested.

"Please Bill, just when I started to think you weren't as stupid as I thought."

"No! I swear Blade. Its true. Wana know why? Cus she told me about it on my last job. And I got to go there. Yes siree I did. That's what I'm here for today, yussee. Cus I was supposed to kill the flying girl. But someone saved er!"

"Let me guess, Peter Pan?"

"Nah! A pirate."

"Bill, I don't wana-"

"Blade, I swear."

Blade was silent for a moment. Then he spoke again. "I think you better just go see your lady friend. If the guards see me talkin to ya, I wont get my free hour tomorrow."

"But Blade-"

"Jus' go, okay Bill. And take your stupid fantasies with ya!"

Bill stared at Blade for a moment, then turned and kept walking. In the background he clearly heard Bill say, "Jus' when I thought I found a _sane_ friend."

Bill ignored him (even though he had no idea what sane meant, he just presumed it was bad) and continued to follow Miss Marge's instructions. He took a kept going down the long hall. As he went the cells became more and more spaced apart. And the lights grew darker and darker, making each cell look creepier and more foreboding. He passed four in all. Until he finally reached the last one.

More like a cage then all the rest, the bars were thicker and closer together as if some untold beast hid behind them, endangering all who dared to pass. No light illuminated from in the cell, and only the small flickering lamp high above his head gave enough light to see. But only enough to light half of the inside of the cell, slanting across in a vicious contrast of light and dark. Part of the cell was in the light, one small cot and a mirror, so cracked and dirty that it's purpose had become forgotten.

Bill stood for a minute, looking into the veins of the cracked mirror. Then he cleared his throat. "Ma'am. I'm 'ere."

For a minute there was no sound at all. Then a slow tapping began.

Tap.

Tap. Tap.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The tapping got faster and faster. 

Bill was confused at first until he squinted into the dark section. It was so thick, the darkness, that hardly anything was visible. But after his eyes adjusted he could see the shape of a chair and the shape of a body. But most of all, he saw the shape of a hand with fingers that were drumming on it's cold metal surface.

The sound had been nothing more then impatience.

"Um. Ma'am?" The tapping stopped.

"What took you so long?" Her accent was Jersey, thick and venomous. And slowly, but so twitchy, it could remind one of a spider, the woman emerged from the shadows. She leaned against the bars and wrapped one of her spidery hands against the bars, leaning against the side as she did.

"So tell me, Bill." She asked smoothly. "How is she?"

"Who?"

"Oh Bill, don't tell me you forgot about her already?" the false amusement was thick. "How is my daughter? The dearly departed Lillie?"

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**Oooh! I loved this chapter. But I'm not the one who can comment. How did you like it? R&R, and tell me what you want to see next.**


	36. A Normal Vacation

**So on to the next chapter. I'm sorry this took so long to write (If you want the full explanation why, just check the bottom! I HAVE AN EXUSE!). JUST DON'T GIVE UP ON ME PEEPS! **

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**a few hours prior**

"Alright men, here's our plan of attack." Peter and the lost boys stood on the platform of leaves on the top of a palm tree. The palm tree stood in the back of the beach, behind many others. But it towered over all the rest and had a good view of the ship. "We shall lure the pirates onto the beach. Toodles, you'll sit up here and give the signal." He handed Toodles his flute and Toodles blew on it experimentally. A loud shrieking note came out. He smiled happily and wiggled his ears. Then gave Peter and goofy salute.

"Twins," Peter continued. "You wait on the beach and guard our pile of mango's. Make a small pile on the side of your own; you get the firs shot after Toodles' signal."

"YES SIR!" They replied in happy unison.

"Cubby, you're going to help get them to that exact spot," he pointed to an X that had been drawn into the sand about 10 meters away down the beach. "And when they come for you wave your arms to tell Toodles when to sound the alarm."

Toodles blew on the flute.

"Not yet!" Peter scolded. He turned back to Cubby. "Do you understand?"

"Aw, why do I always gotta be the bait?" He whined. "Why can't Slightly do it?"

"Because Slightly has a very important job with me."

"Really!" Slightly looked honored. "What is it?"

Peter took out his knife and made a stabbing motion in the air, smirking evilly the whole time. "We," he pt his knife back on his side and stood in a heroic pose, his fists on his hips. "We are going to _sink that boat_!"

So, while all of the lost boys presumed their posts and piled mango's and strained their eyes and ears to get ready to sound off at the first sign of a buccaneer, Peter and Slightly were hard at work. Each went to the opposite sides of the boat. And each swam under the water just to where the boat began to curve under the waves and meet at the bottom, the two of them cut a few small holes in the wood. And then they left, waiting for the chaos to ensue and the boat to land on the shore.

* * *

The scream had been the first thing to alert the captain. But usually a scream will do that. It wasn't a scream of pain but one more of fear.

When the scream had occurred Hook had happened to be on the deck. The early morning was the only time he was allowed a moment of silence. That and the later night, but most of the time the drunken singing got in the way of that. So in the early mornings he awoke and just stood on the deck thinking.

That morning he had been thinking about England and snow and toast. A very random group of ideas, but all very comforting ones. So the random thing wasn't much of a downside. Because when one needs comfort they usually end up thinking about whatever comforts them. And those thoughts usually end up being a string of unconnected thoughts. For your neighbor it might be French toast and powdered sugar. For Hook it was England, snow and toast.

The morning had been a fantastic one. The air was clear and cold. But with his thick coat on, it was almost unnoticeable. He breathed in the cool crisp breeze, twirling his moustache with the tip of his hook. His eyes stayed fixed on the island, watching for movement. It was far too early for any attacks to happen. But he never knew.

His eyes scanned the island, the curves of its mountains covered in the large exotic trees. They were purple in the early morning sun, but soon enough the island would be a mass of green and sapphire.

In the early morning glow, the ocean looked deeper than ever. The top of the water was almost still. A few small waves slapped the side of the ship in a thick sound, spreading the white lace of foam around the ship. The smell of salt and grass mixed in with sea foam was powerful, and even more so in the morning, when the air was at is cleanest, and not as recycled.

He loved the mornings, they were so quiet.

Irony. That's all it was, as Hook looked back at the situation later. That's all it had been. Just a cruel way of ruining his day. And not even ruining his start. Ruining the start of the day, that was a day to be ruined.

Of course as he stood on the bow of that ship thinking of nothing more then England, snow and toast, he knew nothing about the irony that was to occur.

And what had truly made it irony in the first place was after that single though popped into his head. To think, if he had just concentrated on England and snow and toast irony would never have happened. But he did think of it, and that was the irony of them.

Because after he thought about his love of mornings and the quiet they brought, the scream erupted.

That scream of fear that was so quick and unexpected that the captain became completely terrified.

"What the!" He shouted, looking around him in total confusion, as his morning silence was broken. He looked around him and in back of his and even below him at the ocean waves. But nothing was in sight that could have made that scream. He shrugged it off, trying to let the morning quiet once again take over his mind. But the moment had already been spoiled, and so there was nothing else he could do about it.

He looked back out at the island grumpily, humphing a lot about _stupid birds_ and such. And that's when the second scream erupted.

The next time a scream came he didn't hesitate.

This time Hook was sure of where it had come from. And now he was sure he knew why. With a groan and a worried heart he ran down the stairs to where he knew he would find the disruptor. The disruptor whose name he was planning on etching onto her gravestone at this point. No one disrupted his mornings.

He flung open the door to the basement of the ship where that one such person had not stopped screaming.

"Will you please keep it down!" He shouted down the stairs, but the screaming refused to cease. "Young lady, don't push me!" He yelled once more. But like before the screaming was relentless. "FINE! YOU WANT TO DO IT THIS WAY!" Hook stormed down the stairs in a huff, his hook brandished and a stream of threats ready and on the tip of his tongue.

_When I get down there, I'm going to- Water! _His stream of thoughts, so set on one thing and one thing only was disrupted by the sound of rushing water, something that wasn't supposed to be heard in the inside of the ship. And when it was that wasn't generally a good thing.

The second thing that had come as more of an explanation. It was a sinking feeling. Not the kind in the pit of your stomach when your sad or guilty or disappointed. This feeling, this sinking feeling was literal. He could feel the ship under his feet slowly lowering into the riptide.

He searched through his inside coat pocket for a match, struck it, and lit the nearest lantern. And the room was illuminated.

He saw the small room. He saw the cages. And he saw Lillie, standing on the bench her back pressed against the wall with water up to her waist.

"Om my god!" exclaimed Hook.

"HOOK!" Lillie screamed in fear as a wave of water brushed against her stomach.

"Hold on hold on." He said nonchalantly, looking for the keys in a calm manner as he did.

"I c-c-cant!"

"What do you mean you cant?" He asked, all the while fishing through his pockets for the keys. He walked down the rest of the stairs and into the water. With his feet on the floor it was up to his waist as well. He realized how high it was on her to be up to her waist while on a bench nailed to the wall. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. Now stop being silly and come down from there. I'm opening the door."

"N-n-no…"

"What do you mean, no?" He was wading through the water, his coat floating and trailing behind him, heavy now having soaked up water. "Get down here! Look, see!" He put the key into the lock. "Open!" The door clicked and swung slowly against the pressure of the water. "Now get over here and out!"

"I-I-I'm. I-I-I m-m-mean I…"

"Tell me girl. Do you enjoy drowning."

"No! But I don't really enjoy w-w-w-w-w-w."

"W-w-what? What!"

"WATER!" She screeched full of anger. Why didn't he get it. Couldn't he see that she was more afraid then ever. And somehow it just wouldn't transfer through his thick skull.

"You live on an island and you're scared of wa-"

"JUST GET ME OUT OF HERE YOU STUPID PIRATE!" She screamed. He backed away, he certainly wasn't used to her treating him like that. He glared enough to kill.

"You dare call me a stupid pirate. Well, maybe this _stupid pirate_ will just leave you here to-"

"NO!" she panicked, nearly falling off the bench but catching herself in time. "NO, PLEASE! I-II'M SORRY. JUST PLEASE HELP ME!"

The captain smirked; pleased at the reaction he had gained. "Alright, I'll help." He stopped, finally realizing that he could have fun with it. "But first, who's the most daring buccaneer who ever sailed the briny blue?"

"U-u-u-um… b-b-b-b-black b-b-beard?"

"NO!"

"YOU! M-M-MOST! D-D-DEFINITLY YOU! NOW HELP ME!"

"Fine fine." He muttered. He waded into the cell and approached the bench. Her height was short as it was, and if the bench had not been there her head would have been under long ago. But there was a bench and so their faces were almost level, at the moment she was a bit taller standing on the elevated surface. He held out his hands, one good and one not so good, and waited.

"Ok, you little scurvy brat, jump." She hesitated for a moment, eyeing him with wariness. "I'm not going to do anything. Or would you rather stay down here?" In a second her arms were around his neck and she was hanging onto him for dear life. "URK. TOO TIGHT! YOU'RE STANGLING ME!"

"JUST GO!"

He sighed again and, after ignoring the fact that her arms were far too tight around his neck, he waded back out of the cell and up to the stairs where the water cut off. Not even missing a beat, Lillie let go of Hook and scampered, tripping from her eagerness to escape, up the stairs. Hook watched her go and then stood on the first dry step and wrung out the end of his coat. When the girl had first almost drowned he had thought it was just because of a lack of basic swimming skills. But now he saw it clearly. She was afraid, and had a complete and unconditional sfear of the stuff that surrounded her. He was going to break her of that by throwing her over the side if she screamed agian. But for now he had bigger fish to fry. "This is going to be a long day."He told him self, not bothering to sugar coat anything.

And it was about to get longer.

* * *

When Hook finally made it to the deck he saw that the news of the sink was already spreading. There wasn't major chaos, being pirates sinks were second nature. They happened, and when they did they knew what to do. And at the moment they were doing just that. A few were raising sails, some were preparing the life boats just in case it sank to much to reach land, and a few others were packing valuables from below and from above in the captains chamber. Boxes of medicines, food and ale were piled in the center to be saved from any water.

The captain did find it strange that they were sinking. Usually sinks occurred after being attacked of if they landed to near to the shore and hit rocks. Now that wouldn't matter, but the fact that out in the deep end they were sinking surprised him. He cleared his mind of the thoughts long enough to bark orders.

"You there!" He yelled at Bill. He dropped Lilli eon the ships floor where she landed with a loud 'oof' and stood, angrily looking at him.

"Ye'sir?"

"Prepare everything in the lifeboats."

"Ye'sir."

"And you!" He yelled at Shamus.

"Aye?"

"Get downstairs to find the source of the leak. Bring a few others with you."

"Yes Cap'n!"

"Hey there. I need you to do a job." He told Sam.

"Yes."

"Tie this little brat up. We're going to be landing soon, and running away wouldn't be ideal, now would it?" He grabbed Lillie and gave her a smug look. She was too worn out to glare, so only stuck out her tongue and crossed her arms, looking grudgingly at the ground. He pushed her to Sam who gave her a quick apologetic look.

"Yes Cap'n. C'mon little lady." He pulled her by the arm over to the other side of the ship and out of the way of the Captain.

"Alright ya dogs," he stated when the deck was fully bustling and all the jobs and the positions were taken. "Get ready to evacuate."

Lifeboats were set on the side of the ship, ready in case of attack. The wheel was taken and the crows nest was occupied. Spyglasses were out and ready, the wind was checked and the place of docking was seen. Hook knew what he was doing to land his ship safely until repairs could be made, which he would order his men to start immediately.

The ride to shore was quick, but careful. Too quick and water would have taken the bottom over and they would have been at the bottom within minutes. Hook had been in this situation before. The risk of a sink was always there and could never be overlooked, no matter how good the Captain or his crew.

Soon the bottom of the ship could be heard scraping on the bottom on the sand and the sails deflated. Everyone started relaxing now that the threat of sinking was gone. The crew began filing off the ship down a plank that was lowered. The last two off were Hook and Lillie, Lillie being tethered to a rope held by her captor.

"Ok you scurvy dogs. Scourge for wood and food. We'll be camping here the night!"

"Fun." Lillie whispered from behind him. He looked ready to lash out at her, but just rolled his eyes.

"Now I don't want any type of interruptions. We want this ship up and sailing by _tomorrow._"

There were grumbled heard as the pirates spread out to look for the supplies. Some took to the north, strait into the forest with their swords ready. Others went to the east and west to search for driftwood and seaweed and anything else that would be useful to fight a fire. Hook found a large rock to use as a desk and spread out all of his maps that he brought down from the ship with him. Smee joined him after tethering Lillie by her wrists to a nearby tree. She was within talking distance of them, definitely enough distance for them to keep an eye on her. But she wasn't in the mood to talk to the people who held her life in their hands, more literally his coat pocket, and so she just sad and began to formulate plans of escape, digging through the sand with her fingers for bits of shell to cut the tough rope with.

Everyone was occupied with a job and for a few minutes it was blissfully quiet.

But soon the quiet got boring, especially for Hook. It was something that disturbed him greatly, the fact that he was becoming used to hearing the voice of the new addition to his ship. And so he put down a map that he had been scanning and turned to look at her curiously. She was still sifting in the sand next to her, wrinkling her nose at every fruitless find.

"What are you doing?" He finally asked her.

She looked up at him and sighed. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Well, to me it looks as if you're trying to escape."

"Yeah, in a nutshell that's it." She looked back down and continued her search.

"You do know that I've already weighed out all of the escape plans that you could have formulated at this time and found ways to counter them."

"How may did you think of?"

"Six."

"I have seven." She stated in a bored manner and then looked back down.

They were quiet for another few minutes until she spoke up. "You know, you might as well put me up for good use." She told him, not looking up.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm just here, if you haven't noticed. There is, like I've said a million times, no reason for me to be here. So why am I still here? And if I'm here then can I do something? I could go into the forest and look for… something."

"No. You'd escape if I let you off the rope. And the reason you're still here is that… I don't have to explain it to you. But you're staying here. I've never held onto a lost boy- girl- for more then a day. This is a new record for me. I'm going to enjoy my victory until you walk the plank and Peter's little group is down one person."

"They're already down one person!"

"All the better for me."

She huffed indignantly and began sifting again. The idea of death had become something she was familiar with and now hardly scared of. His threats had become strangely empty and no longer scared her. She did hold a certain amount of alertness with her, never knowing if the possibility of him finally keeping his word would become a reality.

Hours passed and the silence stayed. The rope was sharp and it scratched at her wrist, not quiet cutting into her skin, but enough to give her a fair amount of slight burns. Pirates had been back and forth with wood and supplies that would help them over the night that would be spent on the beach. A few were already working on the bottom of the ship, nailing over a suspiciously clean-cut hole. Hook didn't even have to question who had done it. She watched as he had looked over the repairs and mumbled the single word "Pan" to him self. She had nodded subtly, a small smile on her face. Of course Peter would have been the one to do such a thing.

She had thought, much earlier, that calling out for help from Peter would have been a fantastic idea. But he was nowhere to be seen. If she could only just get a sighting of him first. When she was unsure the chances of her own death occurring went up. After the first few calls of his name Hook would have killed her. Their position to him was just to vital to be found out. And so she stayed silent.

Soon the night began to rise. The moon appeared and the stars began to twinkle against the slowly darkening sky. She sat back, her hand never stopping its constant sifting through the grainy land she sat on, and watched the sky turn from blue to green to pink and then back to blue and grow darker. She watched as pirates added to the moons light with a bonfire. She couldn't reach as close as she wanted to to the heat, but she could shift so the night air carried some of the warmer air in her direction. Other then that it was a cool night and she found herself wanting a jacket.

Hook didn't seem to really care about her well being. _Not that he would anyway_, she thought. Actually, he seemed to have forgotten she was there all together as he sat with his back to her with the other pirates around the blazing wood. She could clearly see the features off all of the men, as the fire was bright. What she found to be an advantage was the fact that they couldn't see her as well as they would have liked. A few of the pirates would turn their heads her way to check on her every once in a while, but had to squint in order to see just her outline, and she knew it. Smirking she continued to sift through the sand, every so often moving back a few inches towards the tree that bound her, and even farther back then that. The closer she got to the woods the better.

The night continued to ware on and the pirates continued to talk and drink. And Lillie sat there and continued to sift. And sift. And sift.

And then her hand struck gold.

Not literal gold of course. No, Hook would have had to be stupid to bury his treasure, that was to obvious and Peter would have found it far too quickly. But something sharp. And that to her was greater than any treasure at the moment. Her hand pulled at the object, releasing it from the sands loose grip. It was a simple oyster shell, not large but large enough. And sharp enough that if she sawed long enough she could break through something. Something like a rope.

And for the first time in days Lillie allowed herself to smile.

* * *

Dawn was soon at is breaking point. No sleep had been given to any of the pirates and it showed. Exhaustion was quickly spreading like a wave. Hook rubbed his eyes and yawned. This wasn't really his week. Actually, when he thought about it, the last few weeks hadn't really been 'his'. First a young girl is attacked and he doesn't do what he should have done and just killed her. Then the girl takes residence on his ship. Then he finds he cant kill her, continuosly and then his boat sinks. And as he thought about it everything had been going even more downhill then it usually did when she had come into the picture.

He turned around to send a glare at the girl who was still tethered to the tree a few feet from where he was. She was still sitting there alright. Her eyes were wandering around, looking at everything but him. It was suspicious, but he didn't let it bother him. Shrugging it off he began to put away his maps. The ship had been repaired overnight and he would finally be able to take to the sea once again in an hour or two. After more supplies were gathered they would be off.

His mind wandered to the girl again and what she had said earlier. Maybe, just maybe, he could dispose of her on the beach. Not let her go of course, one less lost person the better. But if he did do it on the ship then there would be too much of a mess to clean up. And that darned pirates tale about bad luck if there was a death on the ship. He himself didn't fully believe it. Then again he had caused many a deaths on his ship and continuously had bad luck.

He shook his head, it was all too much to take in at the moment. One thing at a time.

He was just finishing carefully folding up the last of the maps when something caught his attention. Someone, or something, was slowly making its way down the beach. He squinted. It was small, but too large to be any beach inhabiting animal. And from the looks of the color and shape it seemed to be a bear.

He looked closer, no. Not a bear. Hooks smile widened and he called to a few of his men. He knew what it was, a lost boy. A lost boy stupid enough to come close to them. After sending one last glance Lillie's direction, the crew, led by Hook, began to advance down the beach.

This was going to be fun.

* * *

"This is going to be so much _fun_!" Slightly whispered.

Peter just shushed him. "Wait for the signal." He whispered. "Then we attack." His hand curled tighter around the overripe mango. He felt a few drops of it's juice trickle down his knuckles and hit his leg.

They waited and waited. Until finally…

The sound was not too far off from a tropical bird. But it wasn't natural, containing far to many notes to be real. And it was too flute like. Peter smiled. At least it wasn't a shriek. Toodles had gotten better somehow. That or he was just trying to get good at playing the instrument. It wasn't as good as when peter played it. But it was close enough. The boys holding weapons began to move among the tree tops. When they saw the plume of Hooks feather they all chuckled.

"I'll go first." Peter told his group. "Then the rest of you fire at will." They all nodded. Peter drew back his arm and took aim, making sure the shot was perfect. His shot just had to be, naturally since he was the leader. His eyes narrowed and he held his breath. And then he released his arm forward in a quick wave. The mango soared across the sky and landed on target right in the pirate leaders face.

* * *

Cubby hadn't wanted the job as bait, but he somehow always ended up with it. He forced his feet to move across the sand, trying hard not to stop. That got harder and harder as he saw the pirates advancing his direction. He sucked in a breath and continued, inch by inch. The pirates did the same, their faces drawn back in sugary sweet smiles full of malice.

_Come on!_ He thought. _Just do the call already. _

In a few seconds, but what seemed like hours to him, the call was finally heard. Cubby stopped where he was and waited. He couldn't run, for fear that the pirates would do the same and then he'd be more then just the bait. So he stayed where he was, loyal to Peter's strict orders.

And it wasn't until a flying fruit came and hit Hook square on the jaw did Cubby finally relax and run back towards the trees.

* * *

_SPLAT!_

That was what he felt as they had neared the bear boy. Hook hadn't seen it coming. But after the juice was running down his neck he felt stupid for not at least predicting something along these lines to happen.

And once the first had hit he knew another would come and so he did what any pirate captain would do. He told his crew to attack. They all charged to the trees. That was until mangos upon mangos upon mangos flew above their heads. Soon they were shielding themselves and running down the sands, not out of fear. But out of the realization that med on the ground had no chances against boys in the treetops with an endless amount of fruit.

"I've had just about enough!" Hook screamed at no one in particular. Then he turned and directly addressed Smee. "I want my bags packed and my chests locked .Find me a pint of fairy dust, I don't care how, and leave it on deck. Let none of the other men touch it." He turned to Lillie and then back to Smee. "And lock her up as well.

"You're not going to just… let her go?" Smee asked befuddled. "Or at least be humane-like and slit her throat?"

"Don't ask questions Mr. Smee. Just DO IT!"

"Aye' Cap'n!" And he scurried off.

Hook turned away from the other prates, all still scrambling away from the still falling mango's, and looked at Lillie. He could see it, in her eyes, as she looked down the beach that she was getting ready. For what he didn't know but he did send her a warning glance and a quick threat. "You call out." He said as she turned his direction to look him in the eye, "And I kill you right here. Got it?"

She seemed to see he wasn't kidding and nodded, but the look didn't leave her eyes. He gave her one last glare and looked back at the ship. Smee was already running back. He stopped in front of Hook in a salute. "All taken care of Cap'n." Your bags are packed, that was easy enough. And we still had extra dust in the kitchen."

"Very good. Now lets get out of this rain of fruit." Smee nodded and walked over to the tree Lillie was tied too. Quickly, with fumbling nervous hands, he began to untie the rope from the tree. "Hurry Mister Smee. Hurry!" Hook yelled. "I honestly don't feel like being showered in fruit today." Everyone looked down the beach to see the fruit storm moving closer.

"Aye Cap'n!"

"Wait!" Hook looked over to the girl who had spoken fro the first time. "Why are you packing bags?"

"Because I'm taking a temporary… vacation you could say."

"Cap'n takes them once in a while. It's normal enough." Smee explained form behind her, still working on the rope.

"To where?" Her voice was raising in pitch, obviously worked up about something.

"Why, to England of course, where else you stupid girl." He told her, adjusting his Hat and checking to see that his Hook had a good gleam too it. He looked nervously down the beach. "And I think today is a perfect day to leave."

"Wait! But I… I can't come!"

"You have to, you're under my ownership."

"I'm under no ones-"

"Contract." He reminded her.

"Under no terms did that contract say anything about me being under your control!"

"Then you obviously didn't read the fine print."

"There was no-"

"Fine then!" He told her, exasperated. "Then learn to read between the lines. Me dear, as soon as I saved you, you became my captee. Captee means under control. And Smee, for the love of God hurry up with the rope we don't have time!"

"So…" She started slowly, looking around as if nervous. "How do I get out of this whole, captee thing?"

"You don't. Unless of course by escape." He told her, chuckling maliciously as he did.

She just stared at him for a moment. He looked back over and could see it in her eyes, a faint glitter of hope. And as he watched, her lip curled into a slight smile.

Smee had finished untying the rope, making the Captain even more nervous. She was up to something, he could see it. And he was right. For at that very second, she bolted.

It was quick, and he had no time to think. His brain was still catching up as he watched her run away, but he looked down to see the rope, still clutched in Smee's hands, had been… sawed through where it had bound her wrists.

And that's when his brain caught on. _She's escaping. _It said. _Go get her_. His legs had obviously agreed, for at the next second he cad gone after her. He hand went to his had, which he pulled down farther to attempt to block the fruit still aimed in his direction. No, this wasn't his week at all.

In about a minute he had caught up with her and had, none to gracefully, scooped her up. She had put up a fair fight, that was for sure.

"Let me GO!" She had screeched, kicking out in any direction her could. But it was no use at that point. She knew that he had her. He was bigger and stronger then she would ever be. But that didn't mean that bringing her to where he wanted wasn't a challenge. It took a good ten minutes just to get her onto the ship, as she grabbed onto anything she could to avoid being taken.

At one point it was a tree branch. The next a boulder. And finally one of the posts at the ships entrance.

"Let go!" He screamed at her, pulling at her legs.

"NO! NEVER!"

"Smee, quickly! Get her arms!"

"SMEE YOU DO THAT AND I'LL SEND YOU TO THE MORGUE!"

"Don't listen to her! Just pry her fingers off!"

"DON'T DO IT! I WONT GO!"

"Oh yes you will!" Hook cried, pulling harder on her legs.

"NO! YOU CAN'T MAKE ME! NOT IN A BAZILLION YEARS!"

"ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO BET ON THAT?" He screamed back giving one final tug. Her arms came loose and she hit the floor. He scooped her up once again and carried her down the stairs of the basement.

"NO NO NO NO NO!" She screamed the entire way!

"Stop that or I'll… I'll!"

"You'll what? Kill me? PLEASE DO!"

"Don't tempt me, me dear!"

"What, with another one of your EMPTY PROMISES?"

By that time he had reached her cell and had, in a very rough manor, thrown her behind the bars, slamming the door before she could reach it. Her side hit the metal in an attempt to break out, and she slid to the floor, looking up at his in pure hatred. He leaned in closer, his brow furrowed and the same amount of anger radiating back.

"None." He said. "None of my promises are ever empty. And that includes yours. It's simply delayed. But not empty. Trust me girl, when we get back here your as good as dead."

And just by the way he said it, the way his eyes locked with hers, she knew it was the truth. Her face deflated in defeat.

She watched Hook leave up the stairs and slumped further down. After a few minutes she felt the ship begin to move and then slowly rise.

She was going to England. And then she was going to die. And there was nothing she could do about it.

* * *

**I am sooooooo sorry about how long this took. I had finals in school and then I (yay!) GOT A JOB! Actually, it's the best job ever! And it's my first. I'm working in a cupcake store! Jealous? I know you are! Anyway, about the story again… I also have another development to the story. No I'm not cancelling. But I am going to be adding more to each chapter so it doesn't drag so much. Next chapter? Off to England and then (pause for effect!) MEETING THE FAMILY! I anyone has any suggestions, speak now or forever hold you peace!**


	37. Darla

**Sorry it took so long! I wanted this chapter to be different so I skipped the boat ride up (enough of the boat! I said) and went strait to England. Thought it would be good to introduce some more cahracters in our story!**

**Okay! Onto the chapter!**

* * *

Darla James stared at herself in amazement. How was it that she ended up looking so perfect? It must have been pure luck. Her mother believed herself too be pretty, but Darla knew better. Darla knew what _true_ beauty was. How could she not! She was staring at it right that moment.

Darla flipped her hair experimentally. Her ebony curls bounced up and down, cascading gently down her shoulders in perfect ringlets. Beautiful. Perfect. She fluttered her eyes, her bright emerald eyes, and smiled with her full red lips.

Perfect. So so perfect.

She looked down at the vanity that she currently sat at in her mother's room. The top was littered with all different applicants to help one with their looks. Things that her mother _needed_. But for her, it was optional. Not that it should be an option, beauty needs company, and sometimes company is a little help.

Not that she _needed_ help. She didn't. But when she did allow herself to put on some foundation or a smear of red on her already perfect lips then she became a goddess. An idol to worship. A sight for men to behold. And so she did, most of the time, accept help and become that goddess among mortals.

But everything must have a flaw. And for her it wasn't contained in her looks. No. Her looks were everything. It was her _name_ that she hated, that she couldn't stand. When she did wander out without the cautious eye of her parents she tended to change her name to something more foreign or regal. Sometimes it was Papillion, other times it was Sarafina. All names having rich and beautiful meanings. But her name, her name was one of shame in the family.

Why they had named her it, she wasn't sure. A small part of her mind always shouted loudly that it was pure jealousy that made her mother give her such a cruel name. That if she couldn't have her daughter's beauty then she should be shamed for life.

The fact that her name was so shameful of a thing did occur to her until about five years prior to the current day. Somewhere in their large and dusty library she had found a large book, larger then any one she had ever seen. Inside its yellowing pages were just names. In alphabetical order that one book gave names from all over the world and told exactly what they meant. She had written down her favorites for safe keeping, hoping to use them one day in emergencies.

Papillion, she learned, was a French name, meaning butterfly.

Sarafina, she found, was Italian for "burning one".

The names continued on and on. Some were in Chinese, and next to those were characters that looked less like letters and more like lines and scratchy pictures. In some of the Greek names the letters stuck together in strange ways.

But all of them were amazing.

Some were quite funny, some were mysterious, and others to this day she doubted had ever been used. But there they all were. In those torn pages. All the names of the world.

It had been a rainy day in which boredom had once again crept up to her when she decided it was time she found her own mane in those yellowing pages. She had boiled a cup of the finest brew, sat herself round the fire on large pillow's and lit candles around her feet, not bothering to even turn on a light switch.

The D section came strait after the E section, one of the largest. Her finger traced down the side, her eyes scanning. It would be one of the first ones, seeing as her name did begin with a Da.

And in a very short time she had found it.

Darla.

And that's when she found out.

Darla was an English use derived from the word "darling."

Ugh, what an awful name. And after such an awful thing too! Her parents and grandparents and aunts and uncles and entire family always scorned someone named Darling. She didn't know whom, but to now be a part of their scorning did not delight her in any way. Darla was not accustomed to being scorned.

Of course the scorn was never directed towards her, but Darla was a girl blinded by her own ego, and so the rage boiled deep and hot.

It was that day that the rain had once again fallen on the dreary town on the outskirts of the large city of London. They lived only about two miles off, and so they shared everything London had. The music that played in the evenings, the lights from the buildings and unfortunately the weather.

So as the rain poured Darla was once again drawn back to that day where she read in a book that she wasn't as perfect as she had once thought. And all because of a name.

How awful reminders could be!

Darla looked in the mirror once more and flipped her hair just one last time before standing. She smoothed out the wrinkles in her ironed dark green dress, hoping that her petticoat didn't get wrinkled in the process. She was lucky when it came to clothing, only the best for her and her family. Unlike some of the poorer people in the city she didn't have to strut around in utility dresses all day. Though they did appear more functional they in no way could ever accentuate her delicate figure.

Darla turned her back to the mirror and left the room in search of someone to talk to. She needed opinions for her choices in clothing for the ball that was to be held at her house in only two weeks time. Perhaps Winston, the family butler, could help her decide. Or perhaps the new maid that had been assigned to her last week. The wretched girl's name still escaped her, but that didn't matter. All that mattered was that the woman could compliment and confide. And the girl could do both.

She set off down the halls of the large mansion in search of someone who could help her. Perhaps her parents could give her some money to go out into the city to buy a new dress. Some of the best in fashion would be in the city. And it was a Tuesday; everyone would be at work, leaving the shops to her and her alone. She smiled. _That_ sounded like a plan worthy of a rainy day.

Suddenly a loud chiming rang throughout the house.

"Winston!" She called out. "The doorbell. Get the door!" No one answered. He must have been in the basement. Some butler he was. "Mumsy! Mumsy the door! Someone's chiming the door!"

No answer. Her mother was, too, somewhere far off in the large mansion halls.

Darla just sighed. Why did she always have to do all the work? Stepping daintily on her small, lady-like shoes, she made her way down the hall and the large and illustrious front steps.

The door chimed again. Whoever was there was awfully impatient.

"Coming!" She called out. Darla walked to the large door, grasped the handle, and pulled.

And then she stared.

Standing at her door was the strangest group of people she had ever seen. A very short man stood nearest to the door holding suitcases in hand and an umbrella in the other. He wore ill-fitting clothes that looked dirty and tattered and had a face that was tanned from too long in the sun. Nearest to him was an even stranger man. And what was even stranger was that he looked quite a lot like Darla her self! Long ebony hair that curled and waved down his back, tall and lean. His eyes were blue while hers were green. And his nose was much larger then any nose she wished to ever have on her face. But the resemblance was there. He wore a long red coat that reached to the ground and on his head was a large hat with a plume sticking out.

And next to him was…

Darla resisted the urge to laugh. The other two people outside both had protection from the rain. But the small girl besides them looked miserable. Her strait dark hair clung to her face. Her clothing, an out of style blue dress, was tattered and ripped. Her skin was sun burned and her posture showed anger and exhaustion. She was quite a sight for sore eyes. Darla looked her up and down, but strongly enough the girl refused to meet her eyes. She just glared up at the taller man who, as Darla observed, had her forearm in an iron grip.

She was about to ask what they were doing when the tall man bowed to her in a gentlemanly way. "Good evening my dear. Sorry for the intrusion but I believe were expected here."

"I didn't hear of anyone coming over today?"

"Yes well, the trip was rather a spur of the moment, you might say." He straitened and looked over her and inside the house. "Ah, the manor hasn't changed at all, has it?"

Darla looked behind her and into her house. Well, it certainly hadn't changed since she'd been alive. But then how could this strange man have…

"James!" Darla almost jumped as Winston made his presence known. "So glad to see you! It's been years!"

"Has it? It seems faster."

"Yes. Well, by your time it would."

By his time? Darla shook her head. Everything was just to confusing. "Excuse me?" She interrupted the two men's greeting. "But who is this exactly."

"Oh! So sorry Miss!" Winston apologized. "This is actually a relative of yours. You may have heard of him from your mother once or twice."

"You?" Darla looked back at the man. "You're my relative? In what way?"

The man gave a grin as he stepped inside the large house and took of his hat, all the while keeping his hand on the girl's arm. "I am your great great uncle, James."

"Great great…. But then how."

"I'll explain all of that later."

Darla shook her head. All of this was just too nutty.

"Um, sir, if I may…who is this?" Winston pointed to the girl who was now glaring at the floor.

"Oh. Yes, well. This, Winston, is my daughter, Lillie."

Lillie, the girl, glared up at him. And at that moment Darla realized that things were going to get a lot nuttier.

* * *

**R&R like always! And any suggestions of things you want to see, just put it into reviews or PM me!**

**Bye!**


	38. Meeting the Family

**I was so exited to put up this chapter! As you can see, things are getting worse and worse. But just wait until you meet the family. If you think your own family is annoying just read this. You might just change your mind.**

* * *

"Daughter?" Smee exclaimed.

"Daughter?" Winston exclaimed.

"Daughter?" Darla exclaimed.

"Daughter!" Lillie screeched.

Hook stared at the four people with a calm expression, paying no heed to the way Lillie's face had gone from sinister to dumbfounded or the way Winston was narrowing his eyes in his general direction.

"Yes, daughter." Hook told them. He pulled Lillie closer against all of her attempts to push away, and looped his arm around her shoulder. "_My_ daughter."

Winston was the first to speak up. "If I may be so blunt sir, I've known you for many years, as did my father and his father. Our line has been committed to serving you, and it is my solemn duty, as your butler, not to ask questions."

"Your grandfather served _him_?" Darla's eyes widened as she looked towards Hook. "How old are you anyway?"

"But as your friend," Winston continued, ignoring Darla completely. "As your friend I know much about you. And one thing I know is that you aren't exactly one who takes fondly to children."

"Yes, well people change."

"Not you." Hissed Lillie, but he just tightened his grip on her shoulder to shut her up.

"And I am one of them."

"So tell me, sir, where is the Mrs."

"There is none. You know me Winston, I have no time for marriage. I just simple wished to have the presence of a perfect little one in my life."

Lillie snorted and rolled her eyes, making it obvious to everyone around that her opinion of his change wasn't a good one.

"It seems this 'little one' isn't truly part of your story Mr…" Darla said, pressing to know further his name.

"James. James Hook." He took of his hat once more and bowed low. It was then that Darla fully got to see where the name Hook had taken its form as a glint of silver caught her eye. She stumbled backwards, her hand covering her now 'o' shaped mouth.

"It's a- a- a-"

"What, this thing?" He smiled a little, raising his left hand. "Oh don't worry, it might look dangerous-"

"It is." Lillie interjected.

"But I have no intentions of hurting anyone."

"Liar."

"Will you be quiet." He whispered, and then returned his attention to Darla. "Truly Miss, you are in no way in danger. I'm family!"

"H-how should I know you're family."

"Well, it's just because-"

"JAMES!" A high pitched voice interrupted their talking as a woman in her late forties came into view at the top of the stairs. She was a heavy, short woman who looked like she hadn't done a day of work in her life. Her hair was tied back into a tight bun with not a stray piece showing. Her body was squeezed into a small shapely dress that showed off her large curves, and as she came closer it became obvious that underneath must have been a corset of steel. She wore tiny heels on her tiny feet and massive blue pearls on her neck and ears. Lillie stared at her as she came forward and then stared even more as she openly embraced the man that had put her through so much torture for the last few weeks.

"James!" She exclaimed again, holding him at arms length. "You haven't aged a day since I last saw you! Really you look mahvalous dahling!" Lillie scowled at the way she said everything, forcing the words to sound posh and overly snooty. She didn't like this woman. Not one bit.

And her dislike turned into near hatred when the woman turned towards her next. "And James dear, who is your ratty little friend?"

Hook looked like he was about to laugh, but composed himself quickly. "This, Eustacia, is my daughter."

"_Your_ daughter?"

"Yes, I adopted her some time ago."

Eustacia examined Lillie as if she was looking through a boutique window. To Lillie's discomfort, she grabbed the girl's chin in her hand and moved her face from side to side, examining the features with slow and obvious curiosity. "Your daughter." She said again, more like a statement now. "Really though James, when you were at the orphanage what made you choose her? Such a sad and dirty little thing? What's her name?"

Before Hook could talk though Lillie herself opened her mouth. "You know, I can talk."

"And she's rude too! James really, you should have gotten another one. Or a boy, at least. At least boy's are more… practical!" She looked down at Lillie. "So what is your name, child?"

"It's Lillie."

Eustacia humphed. "Truly! Lillie! Such a plain name. James James James." She scolded him. "You were never to keen at choosing your belongings, were you? First I have to help you choose proper clothing to go about England, and then this!"

Lillie was going to lunge. Truly she was. Her fists were tight, her blood was pulsing, her head was fuzzy. She would have done it, but unfortunately, Hook knew that all too well. Trying to make it seem like a form of affection he wrapped his arm tighter around the squirming girl.

"Yes, well. I thought that maybe with some proper help from the right person, I could truly fix her up, if you know what I mean."

"Exuse me! I don't need any-" Hook covered her mouth.

"But James, you'll need more help. After all, you can't fix a house with just one set of hands." Eustacia straitened proudly. "I'll help you! She can take classes with Darla here. I'm sure she wouldn't mind. And she does look to be about Darla's clothing size. How old is she?"

"We're not really sure." He replied honestly. "No records of birth, and she's forgotten."

"Stupid girl." Eustacia sighed, pitying the girl now trying to escape Hook's grasp and tighten her hands around her throat. "Well, with our help she'll be as good as new." Then her eyes lit up. "I know! She'll come shopping with us today, Just her, Darla, Margaret and I!"

Lillie stopped struggling. Her brain finally allowed itself to straiten up the jumbled mess it had become and plans formed quickly in her mind. If she was alone with just three other girls, no Hook around, what was to keep her from getting away? A quick slip out the back door of a shop, hide in an abandoned factory or mill. She could changer her name, disappear, become dead to the world-

"No, I don't think so."

Never mind.

"James, whatever do you mean!"

"Well, I was hoping that I could just keep her here. This trip's truly paid a tole on her health and she's just exhausted. As am I. Tomorrow we can get measurements and one of the servants can do the shopping for her, but right now I think keeping her here would be ideal."

"Well, if you truly say so."

"I do."

Eustacia seemed to deflate a bit, but brightened as something crossed her mind. "What a dunce I've been! James, I've not even introduced you!" She reached to her right and grabbed Darla's forearm, pulling her closer. "This is my youngest daughter, Darla James."

"Darla James? That's her full name?" Lillie said, almost laughing at how silly it sounded. Darla shot her a glare.

"Yes it is, Rat, got anything against it?"

"No _Snooty_, I don't."

They glared at each other, but kept the nicknames clear on the brain for later use.

"Darla, don't pick on her, she's just a dull little girl! And you," the mother pointed at Lillie, "I'd expect more respect coming from someone of your level."

"My level! What is that supposed to-"

Hook covered her mouth again. "Sorry, I haven't really gotten the whole manners thing through. But I promise she'll be the perfect lady in a few day's."

"I hope so." Eustacia sniffed. "I really do. Anyway, I'd like to introduce my other daughter, but I have no idea where that girl has gone off to!"

"Right here mother!" Everyone's attention was drawn to a door to their left as a girl stepped out. Tall and thin with mouse brown hair tied back in a similar bun to her mothers, she stood proudly wearing a tweed riding outfit, and clutching a book under her arm. "I just came from the library and I found- oh! Guests!" She bustled over excitedly. "Mother, you never told me we were to have guests over!" Lillie watched as the girl came over. She sounded nicer then her mother by far, and less snooty then _Darla James_. Maybe there was hope for one nice person in the house.

"I hardly knew myself, dear." Eustacia smiled at the girl, and then motioned to the new group. "James, this is my oldest, Margaret."

Margaret smiled widely. "Oh wow! I know you! You're from the family album!"

"Yes, that I am. I'm surprised you've seen that."

"Oh Margaret's read almost every book in that dusty old place, haven't you dear." Lillie actually smiled. Maybe there would be someone she could talk to about books! Was it possible she could find a friend, even here?

Margaret's eyes flashed excitedly and she was about to say something when she caught sight of Lillie. "Oh! Aren't you just DARLING!"

Lillie's earlier thoughts vanished as her eardrums burst. There was no doubt in her mind anymore; this family came from a long line of rude and annoying.

"Oh mother! Who is she!" the _she_ in question glared as they once again failed to notice _she_ could talk for herself.

"James' daughter, apparently."

"Oh truly she is just darling! I mean, yes, some improvements are in order! But really mother, truly darling!"

Smee, who this whole time had been silent, finally spoke up. "Cap'n, dy'a think it's time that we moved the trunks into the rooms now."

"Ah yes. Thank you Smee."

"Smee, who's that?" Eustacia asked. Then she saw the older man. "Oh Smee! I forgot all about you."

"No problem there ma'am, you always forget me. Last time was the same way. I'm used to it."

"Oh I promise next time I wont!"

"I'll take your word for it ma'am." Smee said, respectfully, though he, Lillie and Hook all knew it wasn't going to happen. Smee left with a small smile towards the woman again and closed the door behind him.

"He'll drop off our belongings now, and I'm sure that Winston will show us to our rooms?"

"Of course, sir. Right this way, sir."

"Oh and James, before you leave, one question about the girl." Eustacia advanced towards him.

"Of course."

"Her accent, it isn't… like ours."

"No. It wouldn't be."

"American?"

"Yes."

Eustacia sighed and chuckled. "We have our work cut out for us, I'm sure." Then she looked Lillie dead in the eye. "You will have to work very high tomorrow to reach our standards. Here at Hook manor we do have high ones, that is to be sure."

"Hook Manor?" Lillie questioned, not even caring to hear the rest.

"Yes! Of course, this is your father's rightful house after all!"

Lillie turned to look at Hook amazed. She had had no idea that he was so rich, or even more then that, had a settled home he returned to ever few years.

"Well!" Eustacia broke Lillie from her thoughts. "I'll let you to your rooms now. Don't; want to talk all day after all! Winston, give James the green room and give…"

"Lillie." Hook said.

"Yes. Give… that… the blue room."

Winston bowed slightly. "Of course Ma'am, right away."

Eustacia nodded and then gave Hook one last smile before leaving to return to her family.

"Right this way, sir." Winston started walking up the long staircase, followed by Hook with Lillie in tow.

"Well," she hissed. "I can see why yu don't visit often.

"Yes, the family isn't truly the best too others. I was quite surprised though at the way they acted towards you."

Lillie smiled a little. Was that a way of defending her. It might have been from the man she hated, but still it did feel good.

"Usually there completely wrong about everything, but it seems they got you strait on, down to your dirty little face."

Her smile dropped and she glared. Of course it was too much to hope for any kindness from Hook's part.

"The blue room, sir." Winston said, opening a door to their left.

"Excelent, does it have a key?"

"Right here, sir. But what could you need the key f-"

"Never you mind that. Now please go and help with my trunks, savvy."

"Yes… sir?" Winston stopped to look at him conspicuously but then left, not asking any more questions.

When he was sure they were alone, Hook grabbed her arm tightly.

"Ow! Stop!" She let out in protest, trying to jerk away. It didn't truly hurt, but it was forceful.

"Listen to me. We're going to be here for two weeks. Two painfully obvious weeks. So you and me are going to have to play nice until we're out of here."

"Sorry, but there is no way I'm going to- ow!" She cried out again as he twisted her arm.

"No but's. This isn't a truce. There will be none of that between us. But while we're seen in the same room we put on a happy face and play father daughter, got it."

She glared, but didn't respond. He squeezed her arm harder. "ow!" she cried out once more.

"got. It?"

"Yes yes. I got it!"

He let go finally and pushed her into the room. "Good. Now remember, father daughter."

"Of course _father_."

"It's a start. Now goodnight _daughter. _And be ready for a big day tomorrow. I hear your lessons are starting."

She just harrumphed, and turned her back on him proudly. He rolled his eyes and slammed the door and afterwards she heard the click of a lock.

She listened until she heard his footsteps fade and then she leaned against the door, rubbing her temples and letting out a heavy sigh. "Worst. Vacation. Ever."

* * *

**Wow! Bad family right! Yeah, I know.**

**Ok, so heres my question for all you guys. What lessons do you think she should recieve? Remember they are a VERY snooty uperclass English family. So think outside the box.**

**Ok, new chapter coming soon!**

**~Galimatias**


	39. Re Write!

Dear Fanficers,

Okay, first off, don't freak out. I am not one to ever simply stop a story, and hopefully never will. I have advanced as a writer so much during my time here and now would like a chance to "rewrite" this story. I'll delete this one, and by the end of the week have the first chapter up again. Hopefully, I can have everything back up within, at most, two weeks. What I am doing is making minor changes and then I'll start to edit and add once more. I just saw how much this fic could be changed, and am jumping to the opportunity.

So no worries! Just watch out for the first chapter of "Never Say Never" within the week, possibly the day. I'm going to be getting these chapters up relatively fast because of how much is already completed!

THANKS FELLOW FIC-ERS! AND SEE YOU SOON!

~Galimatias


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